


Break A Leg (And Break The Bed)

by DandyVela



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bad Humor, Disaster Lesbians, Emotional Slow Burn, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Hookups, Human Catra (She-Ra), Hurt/Comfort, Is that a thing? It's a thing now, Lesbian Disaster Adora (She-Ra), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, Rivals With Benefits, Rivals to Lovers, Sexual Tension, Stuntpeople
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:40:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27286579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DandyVela/pseuds/DandyVela
Summary: After months of unemployment, Catra finally gets a role in a sequel of a popular action movie. It's just her luck that in her very first scene, she is paired with Adora, the most annoying girl in the entire industry.Things only go downhill from there.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 268
Kudos: 604





	1. Rule #1

**Author's Note:**

> _1\. No one knows about us._

Catra puts her earbuds in, music blasting from her phone. She blinks sleepily, resting the nape of her neck on the headrest of a raggedy-ass SUV, kicking her boots off and pulling her feet up onto the seat.

They are driving East, the auroral sun burning on her closed eyelids. She pulled the visor down but there’s no use, the sun is crawling too low on the horizon.

She forgot her aviators at home, obviously.

Scorpia keeps talking to her from the driver’s seat - or keeps talking, at least, whether Catra pays attention to her or not. All Catra needs to do is hum sometimes to keep the conversation going, while she slowly but steadily drops back to sleep.

She is awakened by a heavy bass solo and the light breeze that breaks through the crack of the rolled-down window by Catra’s head.

Catra grumbles and pulls an earbud out, narrow eyes staring straight ahead.

“Where are we?” she asks raspily.

“Almost there,” Scorpia says, maddeningly joyous as ever.

Catra will never understand how Scorpia can be so enthusiastic about early hours. Waking up at four or five AM is what Catra hates most about her job - even more than bitchy colleagues and asshole directors.

Catra lets one of her earbuds hang down, keeping the other in her ear. They have already left the highway, driving on an empty service road slithering towards the studio complex. Catra had never been to this specific outlet of the industry - her previous jobs were smaller, and took fewer days to shoot. She landed a pretty big gig with this one, although it didn't truly come free.

Which she desperately needed after she was not called back for anything for the last five months; the reason for Scorpia driving her too is not just the fact that Catra cannot be trusted behind a wheel before 11 AM, but that she couldn’t pay for her own car’s insurance yet.

Scorpia turns to the gates and introduces them both, handing their IDs to the security guard. The guy leans down to the window and eyes them up both, glancing between them and their plastic selves like he is watching a tennis match.

"Do you need glasses, big guy?" Catra drawls sweetly. She reads his name tag and snorts, her voice growing weak with suppressed laughter. "Sorry, _Tung_. Cool name. Your mom must love you."

Scorpia shoots the guard an awkward grin. He just grunts, which makes his face even redder if that is even possible, and gives the IDs back with two CREW cards hanging on simple black strings.

"Second building from the left," he growls and lifts the bar.

Scorpia thanks him immensely, and rolls back the window quickly. Catra lets her laughter roar, and despite her embarrassment, Scorpia joins in.

"I should've said something like, _cat got your Tung_?" Scorpia adds in a tone that would clearly need some ba-dum tss in the end.

Catra lets the pun slide, only rolling her eyes. She owes Scorpia too much to make fun of her now.

Scorpia parks the SUV in the shade. Catra staggers out of it, pushing the door closed. The hinges creak and the whole car shakes as Scorpia gets out too, and the driver's door practically falls off.

"Oh, shoot," Scorpia mumbles, holding the broken door with both hands. "It's fine. It's fine. I can put it back. Uhh. Here?" Scorpia tries to fit the door back to its place reluctantly. "No, not like that. Like this? Nope-"

Catra growls and crashes down onto the hood.

"Why won't you get rid of this piece of junk already?"

"I can't, Wildcat," Scorpia objects loudly. "She's been passed down to generations in my family!"

"Exactly. _Generations_. It's a miracle it didn't break apart under us."

"Aha!" Scorpia managed to attach the door back to its place, and she grins brightly as she straightens and dries her forehead with the back of her hand.

Catra knows she lost.

"Great. Can we go in already?"

"Lead the way!"

The entrance hall is packed to the rim with other stunt performers, background actors, extras and supporting cast members, a forever swirling and chatting crowd.

Catra makes a beeline for the side, as close to the front row as she can. Scorpia is following on her tail, cheerfully saying " _excuse me_ " and " _sorry_ " even when Catra does the nudging and she doesn't even touch anyone. Right when Catra halts, a woman comes up to a little podium with a mic attached to her cheek, holding a thin white tablet that she scans through.

The woman doesn't look up to them as she says, her voice shushing the crowd:

"Welcome to the first day of shooting _Crimson Waste II_. I'm your Production Assistant. Call me Juliet. Those who were assigned a trailer can check in with me after the briefing and I'll direct you to your numbers. Now, the first ones to head to wardrobe from background are-"

Catra stops paying attention. It is still so fucking early and some assholes on the other side of the front row keep whispering and laughing quietly by themselves, with only one shaky voice shushing them. They are trying not to choke on their own chuckles.

A moment later she feels Scorpia's elbow digging into her side, whispering:

"That's you, Wildcat."

Catra looks up at Juliet and yawns. Juliet goes on:

"...paired with Adora Grayskull."

Catra scoffs loudly. It echoes from the tall, hangar-like walls.

Oh _fuck_ no.

Catra steps forward and heads towards the wardrobe. Her _partner_ rises from the other side, exposing herself as being one of the whisper-laughing people. Obviously.

Their eyes meet as Catra passes her. Adora follows suit hurriedly, her shoes squeaking on the floor.

Catra feels a smirk crawling on her face as she picks the pace up, not quite going for a jog but fueled by determination to lead.

"Hey, Adora."

"Catra," Adora says. Her voice is full of strength and something else, probably frustration as she walks right next to her.

"Don't sound so happy to see me," Catra teases and puts her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket. "Looks like you're not the only one who can land a gig."

"I didn't know you were gonna be here," Adora says firmly. She sounds almost offended.

"Yeah, well" Catra sighs, "turns out they needed a kickass girl for the assassin role."

Adora stumbles on nothing. Catra's smirk draws wider, especially when Adora's voice grows higher.

"You have lines?"

"Mm-hm."

"Well, I would have known before if you were at the table read."

Okay, that's a blow. Catra furrows her eyebrows but keeps going, forcing her voice to stay cool.

"You too?"

"I guess that's why we're a pair." Adora is smiling, Catra can sense it in her voice without having to look at her. "I'm the main lead's bodyguard."

"Of course you are. Always playing the good guy, aren't you?"

"It's not like we have a choice, you know that," Adora snaps.

"Right, you just have one of those faces." Catra pauses. "And I'm not going to waste an entire day of table read for three lines."

Adora hums. Catra squints at her; Adora raises her eyebrows, cheeks round from a smug little grin.

"What?"

Adora leans in and links her arms behind her back.

"I have four."

They reach a heavy black door. Catra halts and spins on her heels, raising her arms courteously. Adora scoffs but steps inside first, Catra following.

Catra is escorted away and dressed in tight leather leggings, combat boots, and a carmine tube top under a biker jacket. Once she is done, she has to take a seat right next to Adora again, now wearing a simple black pantsuit and a white shirt. Typical lame bodyguard costume; all business, no substance. It suits her.

The mirror they are seated in front of them is covering the whole wall, so Catra allows herself to sneak a peek at Adora.

Catra hasn't seen her in months, but not much has changed. She has known Adora for three years now, from Catra's first stunt job that was only a couple scenes of leaping out of a speeding truck.

She's hated Adora Grayskull from day one.

Everything about her is annoying. She is nothing but a boring blend of obedience and fake good-heartedness, a stick-up-her-ass goody two shoes who is always on time, always the first to go, always taking every punch thrown her way like she enjoys being a martyr.

Catra sees right through her. Adora is easily frustrated, a hotheaded, anxious mess. She wants to be the best at everything and is just as competitive as Catra is; she can be so full of herself, so smug and downright unabashed. Her jokes are terrible, her hair poof is stupid, she always says the dumbest fucking things and she can be so clumsy which, given their professions, is _insane_.

The most annoying thing about her is that she is too hot for words.

Adora catches her staring and quirks a brow. The reflection of her cloudy blue eyes burns Catra's chest, and she tears her gaze away.

"Adora!" A voice calls and a short girl appears behind them. "Long time no see!"

Catra recognizes her as well. She is quick to greet the newcomer first:

"Hi, Glitter."

"Gli _mmer_ ," the girl spits but ignores Catra further. She goes to work on Adora's hair and makeup, demolishing her hair poof so fast like she had been dreaming of destroying it for a while. "How have you been?"

"Did you get shorter?" Catra cuts in as an artist touches her up as well, combing her untamed hair back from her forehead.

"Did you get lamer?" Glimmer snaps back, raking through her makeup box angrily.

"Wow, what an insult. I am devastated."

"I can make you so ugly you won’t recognize yourself on screen.”

Catra leans back on the chair, humming.

“Good luck, I can pull off anything.”

“I’m good,” Adora chimes in frantically, trying to put a stop to the fun. Asshole. “How are you?”

“I’ve been better,” Glimmer grunts, shooting a killer glare towards Catra. “But it’s all good. Business is business as usual. And I’m glad to work with you again. We totally have to hang out later! I’ll tell Bow.”

“I’d like that,” Adora says. Her voice is so gentle and quiet now; she’s never talked to Catra like that. “I missed you two.”

Glimmer gives Adora a quick hug from behind. Catra makes a loud retching noise, trying to dissolve the bile in her throat.

“You know, I _really_ hope you break a leg,” Glimmer hisses.

Adora whimpers miserably.

Things are starting to get fun.

*

Catra sprints as fast as she can, Adora following right behind her.

Explosion roars behind them from the speakers, and the machine tugs on Catra's harness. She's pulled into the air and left to fall while Adora's harness aims her to crash into Catra mid-air.

Adora curls her arms around her protectively and Catra's breath hitches. This wasn't scripted; it feels almost instinctive as she turns towards Adora in her arms and plops down onto the huge mattress laid out under her.

Adora puts a hand out, trying not to crash into Catra. She lands on top of her anyway, her face in the crook of Catra's neck. Her ridiculously muscled body is squeezing the air out of Catra's lungs and covers her fully, pressing her deeper into the rippling mattress.

Catra's chest is heaving, her insides burning.

"Cut!"

Catra shoves Adora away and staggers to her feet. It took them five takes to get the timing right, and now Adora fucks it up with whatever that improv was, just to show off.

Catra climbs off the mattress. She mentally prepares herself to do four other takes of this, probably, thanks to her idiot partner.

Adora steps right next to her, her body radiating warmth. Catra crosses her arms and glances at her now without moving her head; she knows her expression is hidden behind the face shield of the motorcycle helmet. Adora is scanning Catra’s body, cloudy eyes clearing up after she has taken it all in, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She doesn't seem to realize that Catra is looking at her behind the shades.

"Are we done?" Catra asks the director loudly. It makes Adora wince and clear her throat.

The director - also screenwriter, and lead actor, number one diva, the world's worst ex, and fuck knows what else at this point - takes off their headphones. They twirl it around their index finger and tilt their hips to the side.

"Almost," they drawl. "I've just seen something… truly inspiring as I watched the tape back. Something _enthralling_."

"Cut the crap, Dee," Catra growls and takes her helmet off. She puts it under her armpit and combs through her sweaty hair with her free hand.

"Easy, Kitten. We're playing by my rules now."

Catra feels Adora grow tense next to her. Catra holds the helmet tighter with her bicep but stays quiet. They might have started off in the industry as equals, but Dee's career skyrocketed pretty fast and they gave no shit about Catra anymore.

Not like it matters. It's _fine_. She's over them. She just wants to grab that long mop of bleached hair and tear it off of their head, or use it to shove that sharp face into a metal table repeatedly-

"So," Dee says and saunters closer, hands on their hips. "Who's your new girlfriend, again?"

Catra's laugh cuts like a knife.

"She's not my girlfriend. And she can introduce herself."

But Adora doesn't. She says nothing, actually; her body is still tense, her hands balled into fists.

Catra pokes her between the ribs.

" _Adora_."

Adora jerks.

"Yes, ma'am," she blurts and salutes. "Sir. Mx Director." Her face is burning pink, her voice weak. She buries her face into her palm. "Sorry."

Dee squints at her, showing their sharp smile.

"Aren't you a doll," they coo, and eye Adora up and down. They add, lowering their voice: "More like an action figure, I guess. Adora, was it?"

She nods.

"Adora, please tell me what inspired your touching impromptu to protect her?"

Adora licks her lips. She opens and closes her mouth, gaping like a stupid fish. Catra wants to claw her own face off.

"I'll tell you why, because she wants everyone to know she's the best," Catra says in a blank tone. "There, I figured it out for you."

"That's not why!" Adora practically shrieks, trying to tower over Catra. So she can find her voice immediately when she needs it to fight Catra. Cute.

"Oh, please. You can't go five takes without showing off, can you?"

"And you can't go five takes without insulting someone. Do you have to be so rude all the time?"

"I'm so sorry, Princess, did I offend you with pointing out your _gigantic_ hero complex that's somehow even bigger than your forehead?"

"I'm not asking to be _psychoanalyzed_ by stubborn brats like you."

"You don't have to. I'm doing it all for free. See, I can be nice."

"You're such a pain in the ass-"

"That's not me, that's the stick you left there."

Someone's clapping. Adora bites her words back, and her head snaps towards the sound just like Catra's. Dee is still there, slow clapping for them with the most disturbing expression Catra has ever seen on them.

"Alright, thank you both so much," they say suavely. "You have given me a lot to think about. See you both tomorrow."

Adora storms off without a word, stomping like a kid throwing a tantrum.

Catra meets Dee's eyes for one last time - dark and unsettling, as usual -, then leaves as well.

She walks in the opposite direction from Adora.

*

Catra is lounging around the cafeteria. It is still early for lunch so the area is pleasantly empty and airy, only a couple people loitering around in small groups.

Catra plops down onto a plastic chair, spreading her legs and leaning her elbows on her knees. She gets her phone out of her pocket on the way and taps on Scorpia's contact.

**scorpia**

i'm done for today. you?

Sorry Wildcat, I'm still in MUAH!!! 😬😬

Someone was verrrrry late so I'm still gonna be here a couple hours!!

Just one scene for today tho ;))

ok, text me when you're done.

Will do!!?

Catra sighs and puts her phone away. Well if she is stuck for hours, she might as well use her time wisely - with free food.

Catra circles the long tables packed full - trays of pasta and meat and steamed veggies, pots of soup and sauces. She makes a beeline for the coffee machine, pouring herself a huge cup. She throws her head back and gulps down the whole thing like a shot.

"You're Catra, right?"

Catra turns towards the voice and dries her mouth with the back of her hand. It's the PA again, rustling through a huge pile of papers clipped together.

Catra pours herself another cup of coffee.

"Yeah."

"You've got a trailer assigned to you. Sign this, and I'll give you the keys."

Catra's eyes widen. Her nails clink on the cup as she puts it down and smoothes the contract down onto the table as well, leaning on her elbows.

"Pen," Juliet says, holding her hand out.

Catra takes the pen from her and signs her name above the line. She curls the end of the last _r_ when she notices something suspicious at the beginning of the thick chunks of text.

Why the fuck does she never read contracts-

She straightens and flops the paper in front of the PA's face.

"Wait, this says it's a two-person trailer?"

"Yeah."

Juliet doesn't elaborate, taking the contract from Catra and sliding it between the others. She throws a tiny key in the air, expecting Catra to catch it. She turns on her heels then, looking for the owner of the next trailer.

"Who am I sharing it with?" Catra calls after her, suspicion creeping in.

The PA doesn't even look back.

"I haven't gotten to them yet. Ask Dee if you want to know."

Catra does want to know. She really fucking does, because she doesn't _share a place_ with anyone, not since the second she could help it - and especially not after what happened during shooting today.

Catra leaves her second cup of coffee on the table and snatches a blueberry muffin from the nearest tray, biting off half of it.

She starts running.

*

Catra finds Dee twenty minutes later, working at a different location. Scorpia is there as well, hanging from a brick wall with one hand, green screen drawn behind her. She waves Catra enthusiastically with her other hand.

"Hi, Wildcat!" She roars. "Did you come to see me in action?"

Catra waves back, raising her voice as well.

"Looking good up there, big gal."

Dee turns around in their Director's chair, their toothy grin is all too knowing. Catra doesn't have to say anything for them to call for a break and rise from the chair as the bell rings for five minutes.

Catra turns on her heel and leads them into a dark corner further away from the spotlights. Catra hops over a bunch of wires, Dee's high heels knocking loudly and languidly behind her.

Catra turns towards them, raising her jaw.

"What are you playing at?" She hisses.

Dee shifts and crosses their arms, tilting their head slightly. They have enough courage in them to spare Catra the "I don't know what you're talking about" speech.

"Changing the script a little bit. Thanks to you and your girlfriend, I found a better direction to take your characters to."

Catra cannot control her voice anymore.

"Stop calling her my girlfriend! I hate that girl."

Dee narrows their eyes. They are gleaming with sadistic joy.

"But you're sleeping with her, aren't you?"

"That's none of your fucking business."

They chuckle deeply.

"Oh, that's a _yes_ loud and clear."

"You don't know shit, Dee. What do you want to get from this, exactly?"

"Shouldn't you ask what _you_ can get from this instead?" Dee steps over the wires as well. Catra takes a couple steps back but they keep drawing near, cornering her into a wall. Shadows creep on half of their figure, keeping Catra in the dark. Their teeth are shining as they talk, their voice silky. "Don't you want a bigger role? More lines, more money, more fame? Don't you like having your own trailer after three years of jumping out of burning cars and calling it _acting_?"

"It's not my own, is it," Catra grunts through gritted teeth. "You're gonna lock me up with Adora to get more of that… whatever _tension_ that seems to get you off-"

Dee scoffs.

"I know, I know, you see right through my evil plan, congratulations." They lick their lips, closing the distance between them again. Catra doesn't break eye contact as Dee leans on a hand next to Catra's head and raises a shaved brow: "What about Adora?"

Catra sets her jaw, her fingers twitching.

"What about her?"

"Will she see through it?"

Adora Grayskull? Seeing through anything that's not as clear as a glass window? Catra swallows back a laugh.

"No."

Dee's free hand comes up to cup Catra's chin. Their sharp nails are digging into her skin, turning her face.

"Then we won't tell her."

Catra slaps their hand away. Every fiber of her body is pulsing with rage, hairs standing up in her arms.

Her voice is quiet again, shaking as she is trying to keep her anger deep down.

"You may be my boss now, but you don't get to tell me what I can and can't say. You don’t control me.”

“So eager to protect her already, aren’t you?” Dee straightens, stroking their collarbone with their fingertips.

Catra reassures them again, emphasizing strongly:

"I don't give a fuck about Adora."

Dee smacks their lips and lets their hand fall from their chest.

“It seems to me that you already know what you should do. I’m giving you everything you’ve been working for, and you know that I can take it all away if you don’t play nicely. If this is not what you really want, feel free to walk away. How hard do you think it will be to find a replacement for your original stunt role?”

Catra swallows thickly.

“That’s what I thought,” Dee says, and they finally step back into the light. “Work with me here, Kitten, and I’ll help you get everything you’ve been dreaming of. Toodles.”

They turn on their heel, facing away, so Catra exhales with a deep sigh she didn’t know she kept in her lungs.

Her skin itches uncomfortably.

She needs to hit something, and settles for the wall behind her to punch.

She walks back to the cafeteria, even though she has lost her appetite; the lonely blueberry muffin is rocking inside her upset stomach like a ship in a storm.

*

Scorpia texts her soon after, and they meet outside after they have both changed back into their own clothes. The sun is hanging high from the sky now, shadows reaching far on the asphalt.

Catra doesn’t have the heart to tell Scorpia so soon into their conversation - not when Scorpia is chattering enthusiastically about some girl she met.

They are already halfway through the drive to Catra's apartment when Catra leans on the window with her elbow, ruffling through her curls.

She blurts out:

"Scorpia, I have a favor to ask you."

"Okay, anything," Socrpia replies immediately. “What do you need?”

"Can you take me back to set?"

"Like, what, right now?”

“No, after I can pack my stuff at home. I'll… I'll stay at a trailer.”

“Oh wow! Really?” Scorpia whistles appreciatively. “That’s amazing, Wildcat! I knew you had it in you to charm everyone on day one!”

“It’s not that fun, actually,” Catra grumbles. “Dee's just fucking with me whenever they can.”

Scorpia keeps quiet for a while, waiting for Catra to elaborate. When she doesn’t, Scorpia presses on gently, eyes on the road:

“What happened?”

“ _Ugh_ , nothing, just-” Catra scrunches her nose and buries her face into her palm. She hates how weak her voice sounds. “I’m sharing it with Adora.”

Scorpia’s foot slips on the pedal. The SUV buckles violently, Catra’s elbow drops off the window, her forehead almost slamming into the glove compartment.

“Hey!”

“Sorry, sorry-” Scorpia clears her throat and peeks at Catra from the corner of her eye. “...Adora Grayskull?”

“Do you know any other Adoras?”

“Well, no, but-” Scorpia is clearly struggling to find the right - _safe_ \- words to say in the situation. “Why would Dee do that on purpose?”

“I don’t know,” Catra grumbles and sinks lower in her seat, deeming the conversation over and done.

She’s not fucking stupid. She isn’t planning on ever telling Scorpia Dee’s real reasons behind their actions, yet alone Catra’s own. Scorpia is a wonderful support but she can’t keep her big mouth shut and she certainly wouldn’t agree with Catra playing Dee’s game. All she knows about Catra and Adora is that they hate each other, and take every chance to get into a fight. That’s more than enough.

Being judged and told off by Scorpia, of all people, is the last thing she needs right now.

“Well, I’m sure it’s not going to be that bad,” Scorpia assures her then, her cheerful tone only breaking once. Catra appreciates that.

“Yeah,” Catra says, crossing her arms. “Not that bad.”

Fucking hell, it sounds _so_ fake coming from her own mouth. She feels hysterical laughter bubbling in her lungs, ready to burst.

It takes all her remaining strength to keep it contained.

*

Scorpia helps her pack, get back, find the right trailer in the park, unpack, and keeps Catra busy. The solution is only temporary; all too soon, it is time for Scorpia to leave her alone and drive back to the city again before sunset.

Scorpia wraps Catra in a bone-cracking hug, lifting her petite body off the floor.

“Take care, Wildcat,” she whines into Catra’s hair, cradling her in the air.

Catra’s grunts are muffled, her whole face squished into Scorpia’s chest.

“Scorpia, I’m just gonna spend some nights with the most annoying girl on the entire planet, not going to war.”

“Does it really make a difference to you?”

Wow, fuck. When did Scorpia get so good at reading her?

Catra pats Scorpia’s shoulders, and she is gently placed back down on her feet. There are tears gleaming in Scorpia’s sad eyes.

Catra smiles as fondly as she can right now.

“It’s gonna be fine, okay?”

“Text me whenever you need,” Scorpia says. “Or call. Or FaceTime. Write a letter, send it with pigeon-post. Or beep?”

“Where the fuck would I get a pigeon? Or a pager, for that matter.”

“I don’t know!” Scorpia whines. “I’m running out of options!”

“Okay, dude, you need to leave,” Catra says, and softly turns Scorpia around, pushing her out of the trailer. “I’m gonna be fine."

Scorpia drags her body down the couple metal steps, turning back right as she steps off. Her lips part.

"I _know_.” Catra raises a hand. "I'll find a pigeon, catch it, train it and send you a strongly worded letter about how much of a dumbass Adora is."

Scorpia finally smiles, although it's faint and still a touch sad. Catra grabs the doorknob.

"See you on Wednesday," Scorpia says. "Or I can check in tomorrow too, if-"

"Wednesday sounds good." Catra pushes the door halfway closed. "Drive safe, okay? Don't freak out. Even more."

"Sleep well!" Scorpia calls through the crack, and Catra replies quietly, shutting the door.

"You too."

Catra leans her back to the door, taking a deep breath that strains her lungs. Her heart is beating fast, drumming on her ribs and in her ears.

She needs to fucking calm down.

Once she is alone, Catra locks the door. She has half a mind to leave the key in the lock, but that would be low, even for her. Something tells her that after everything that happened between Adora and her today, she wouldn’t take it as a lighthearted joke.

Catra is circling 'round the narrow space of the trailer. It’s not much, not like she expected it to be - an ugly couch, the tiniest table hanging out of the wall with two seats on the opposing sides, a small bathroom and a cupboard over a sink that dares to call itself a kitchen. The two-person in the name calls for a bunk bed, which is probably the only exciting thing about the whole shit.

Catra grabs her backpack and throws it on the top bed. Losers weepers, fucker.

She wishes her heart would stop pit-patting, is all, because it still makes her whole body shiver. She rubs her palms with her fingers, her skin slippery with sweat. She stomps to the window above the table, trying to tear it open. It’s stuck.

Catra braces herself with her foot on the wall, grunting desperately as she pulls the lock, her knuckles whitening.

She howls:

_“Oh for fuck sa-”_

The door is jingling. Catra’s hands slip off the sash lock, nearly losing balance but she manages to keep standing. The small of her back is pressing to the tabletop, her hands clutching it as she stares at the opening door.

Adora struggles with pulling a carry-on suitcase up the stairs, a duffel bag hanging from her shoulder. Her ponytail comes half undone and her cheeks are gleaming and flushed. Her tight jeans are practically ripping off her muscles, her shirt emphasizes the movement of every curve as her chest is heaving.

Adora's eyes find Catra's as soon as she steps inside the trailer, and from that moment, they never leave hers again. Not when Adora slams the door loudly, not when she pushes the straps of her duffel off her shoulder, letting it lump down onto the floor. Especially not when she curls her hand into a fist and leaps towards Catra, a determined flare flickering in her eyes.

Catra comes forward as well, meeting Adora halfway. Her hands slide up to Adora's broad shoulders right when Adora grabs her thighs and scoops her up as Catra jumps.

Their lips crash.

Catra moans and opens her mouth, demanding. Adora deepens the kiss messily and tugs Catra higher on her hips. The friction leaves them both breathless, just like the kiss neither of them cares about breaking yet.

Catra tastes Adora hungrily, nails deep in her hair, pulling her ponytail loose. She presses as close as she possibly can and rocks her hips forward.

Adora grunts, low and deep; Catra can feel the rumble in her chest. Adora's knees buckle and she lets Catra's thigh go with one hand to slam it behind her, keeping steady.

Catra smirks and licks into Adora's mouth before she traps her lower lip between her teeth. She peeks up at Adora's face - she looks ruined already, her cheeks so flushed and her brows knitted, eyelashes fluttering.

Catra draws back and Adora opens her eyes, her pupils blown out. Catra kisses her again, peppering her mouth with little pecks, her hands roaming up and down her chest, urging Adora to hurry up already.

Instead, Adora mumbles into the kiss as soon as she is able to breathe:

"I can't believe we're stuck here together."

"Stop talking," Catra reminds her, throwing her arms around Adora's neck again. Her throat is dry.

"Right, right."

Adora kisses her now, turning on her heels to press Catra into the wall. Catra gasps into Adora's mouth as her back hits the door, the trailer shaking at the impact. Adora uses her hips to keep Catra in place, grinding against her rough and desperate through their clothes, her teeth sinking into Catra's neck right where she likes it. Catra's eyes fall shut. She unlaces her arms from around Adora's neck to take a fistful of Adora's hair and her shirt, pulling them both.

Adora takes both of Catra’s wrist in her grip, pinning them above her head with one hand, her other hand crumples up Catra’s top. Adora’s palm warm on her exposed skin, crawling higher to squeeze her breast under the bra. Then, she pushes herself away to tear her shirt off and shove it into a corner, finally giving Catra what she was asking for.

She wears nothing underneath, captivating Catra’s gaze. Her hands jerk to feel, to touch as Adora's grip captures them again, but she finds no release. Adora’s fingers hook into Catra’s ripped jeans, unbuttoning, zipping, yanking. Catra gasps and wiggles out of her jeans and bikini as much as she can, the fabrics slipping off her ass to the middle of her thighs. Adora seems to be satisfied with that much to continue; she raises a knee under Catra’s ass to keep her in place and cups her between her legs.

Catra cries out at Adora’s thumb circling, her lips sliding higher on Catra’s throat, kissing and nipping. Adora’s huffing breath is hot on her skin, just like her curious fingers stroking her.

Catra’s legs are growing weak; her heels digging into Adora’s back are slipping as her whole body melts, completely relying on Adora’s strength to keep her pinned to the door.

Adora draws back from kissing Catra’s neck to meet her eyes as her fingertips slide lower, an unspoken question clear in her eyes.

Catra nods, chewing on her lower lip.

Adora slips in. She actually _grunts_ , shutting her eyes and hiding back to the crook of Catra’s neck as she works her way in, knuckles deep. She doesn’t wait for anything else to pull back and thrust in rough, Catra’s body welcoming her with no resistance, just needy, throbbing heat, and an embarrassing whimper escaping from Catra’s throat.

Adora fucks her hard, setting a frantic pace that quite literally drives Catra up the wall. She knows exactly how Catra wants it, needs it, answering her choked sobs with more bites on Catra’s neck, and a firm palm clasping tighter around her wrists.

Catra is embarrassingly close. Today was the longest fucking foreplay she’s ever had, and Adora’s long, boney fingers fill her so good, her teeth in her skin and her tongue flat on her pulse, Catra’s hands writhing in that steady grip-

Adora’s lips latch to the spot right under Catra’s ear, and she comes undone with rattling moans.

Catra’s back arches off the door, her legs dropping down. Her knees buckle under her but Adora’s fingers dig into her waist now, pulling her back up.

Catra is gasping for air but she’s not going to slow down now - she fights out of Adora’s grip to pull Adora’s jeans and briefs all the way down. Catra shoves her own clothes down to her knees as well, and leans back to the door then, glancing down at Adora. She's already dripping, the inside of her thigh beautifully wet and shiny.

Catra throws an arm around Adora's waist and brings her back to her with a pretentious pull. Adora props on an elbow by Catra's head. Chest to chest, forehead to forehead, they lose their breaths at the same time.

Adora paddles into a narrow sprawl and rocks her hips forward hastily, claiming Catra's thigh. She starts grinding against her hard, _slamming_ Catra back into the door.

Catra swallows back a moan as Adora's wet heat coats her skin; she tries to grind back against the force when Adora draws away. Adora growls again, deeper this time, palm flat on Catra's waist to keep her down.

Her revealing reaction is gasoline to Catra's eager need to take control - Catra brings a hand between Adora's scapulas, nails in her skin. Her other hand finds a comfortable place where Adora's ass meets her thigh and urges her to move faster.

Adora fucks herself on Catra's thigh with frantic little thrusts, dragging Catra's hips down so she finds much better friction on her sharp pelvic bone. Their foreheads are still pressed together; Catra loses herself at the sight of Adora's rosy lips and swallows every miserable, high _ah_ spilling from her throat. Those wet gasps are like daggers stabbing and twisting into Catra's insides, her heart thrumming louder than thunder in her ears.

Catra digs all ten nails into Adora's shoulders. Adora's feverish rhythm doesn't fade as their eyes meet - Catra scratches down on her back hard, spilling beads of blood in their rouge paths.

Adora comes with a scream so high she can barely articulate it, her whole body tensing up in quivering spasms of pleasure. Adora is riding them out, whimpering, still grinding to Catra's hip, blue eyes drilling into Catra's.

And then, Adora halts and everything stills.

Heavy silence pours over them, broken by their loud breathing. Curls of Catra's long bangs are fluttering in front of her face as she exhales. Adora takes a careful step back, fingers twitching as she lets her arms fall awkwardly. Catra's body feels absolutely crushed, shaking slightly, her knees and head empty.

She feels Adora's shine flowing down her thigh and her own expression mirroring Adora's - mouths agape, pupils wide, lit up by flickering, uncertain horror.

So, they've done it again; but this time, neither of them can button their jeans up, drag their shirts down, and walk away. Even if they do, there is nowhere else to go, to stay. They're _stuck_ here.

Fuck.

Now what?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out this absolutely wonderful [illustration](https://twitter.com/feistypaaants/status/1322929452423196672) by @feistypaaants!


	2. Rule #2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _2\. Act like nothing happened._

Adora shouldn't stare.

She knows she shouldn't, but Catra's horrified, mismatched eyes are so easy to drown in, pulling her in like gravity. Adora’s mind is slowly clearing up, registering every little detail one by one, each of them a tiny shock in her nerves. She is naked, her clothes cramped around her ankles. Her shirt is… somewhere, around the trailer, her suitcase lying sideways, her duffel bag too.

Also, she has just slept with Catra.

_ Again _ .

Which is- Yeah. It wasn’t completely planned. Not right now, not like this.

Adora finally blinks. Her eyes are dry, burning into her skull. That one little flutter seems to put off Catra as well, yanking her out of her shock. Adora’s gaze wanders down on Catra’s body, from her freckled shoulders to her gleaming thigh. Heat blooms in Adora’s cheeks, crawling down her neck and she opens her mouth to say something, anything-

Catra pulls up her jeans and storms away. Adora turns on her heels as Catra comes ‘round her, rushing into the tiny bathroom and slamming the door on herself.

So that’s settled.

Adora sighs. She yanks her own jeans higher on her legs as well, holding them in her fist so she can totter to her bags. She unzips the duffel and fumbles for a tissue to rub herself dry unceremoniously before buttoning up. She leans for her shirt next and puts it on too; the fabric sticks to her sweaty skin, cold and uncomfortable.

The shower is running. Adora assumes she’ll have five to ten minutes of quiet alone time, so she uses it to get a gray tank top and clean briefs from her duffel and smooth them nicely on the bottom bunk. She gets on her knees then, unzipping the carry-on case as well. Some necessities are gonna be enough for tonight - tiny bottles of shampoo and conditioner in one, shower gel and toothpaste. Her hairbrush and toothbrush are in different sections, neatly separated. She places them all on the bed, putting them at the same distance from each other.

Adora halts then. She feels her fingers shake above piles of clothes, and curls them into a fist.

She swallows, dry, right when the shower stops.

Adora slips into panic mode, throwing herself on the bed with her phone in her hand. She unlocks it and forces her expression into something that shows Catra that she is seriously busy with whatever app she has opened in front of her, despite laying on her back on top of all the stuff she’s just carefully unpacked.

The bathroom door slams open now. It’s a white folding door so Catra fumbles with it a bit, pushing and growling. It shouldn’t make Adora laugh, but she barely manages to gnaw on the inside of her cheek to keep it down. She snorts, anyway, puckering her lips.

She is not ready for Catra coming closer, but in order to get to her top bunk, she really has to. Adora inhales deeply before Catra’s intoxicating scent twirls around her, forcing her to not sneak a peek at Catra.

She fails.

Catra is standing right by her side, reaching up to get something out of her bag, and her tank top slides higher on her stomach, exposing soft, fuzzy skin.

“How’s the shower?” Adora asks, voice high.

Catra freezes mid-air. She is still tiptoeing, slowly grounding herself, and Adora can feel her killer glare without even having to look at her, and with fully knowing that Catra also avoids looking at her.

This is torture. Adora definitely won't be able to deal with her strange, attraction-poisoned hostility towards Catra on a daily basis if she keeps acting so much like… well, herself.

“Come on, Catra,” Adora tries, putting her phone down on her chest. “You have to talk to me, eventually.”

Catra just grunts. She clings to the doorframe of the top bunk, pushing herself away to stare down at Adora. There's that killer glare.

“No, I don’t,” she hisses. “You know the rules.”

Adora props herself up to a sitting position, leaning on a hand on the pillow. Her phone plops down next to her, screen first.

“The rules are for. Y’know. Sex. You can’t possibly expect us to share a trailer for weeks without-”

“So what if I do?” Catra snaps, tilting her head. Her wet hair is sticking to her face and her neck, water dripping from the curls down to Adora's sheets. “I have nothing to say to you. Do you?”

"Well  _ I _ just asked you a question, so I guess I do!" Adora raises her voice, huffing. She tastes bile at the back of her throat. "Why are you like this? We talk all the time on set."

Catra scoffs, walking away as far as she can - which is three steps - and she reaches the narrow chair she plops down onto. She crosses her arms, stretching her legs under the table.

"If you wanna call that talking," she mumbles.

Adora doesn't have a comeback for that, so she just grunts.

Typical Catra. She  _ always _ does this. She ends conversations as she pleases, never treating people as partners in anything. Everything always has to be just like she wants it, and even when she gives, it feels like she takes.

Adora is so over it.

"No, I don't," she says quietly. She can't stop her voice from quivering with frustration that keeps building up in her stomach. "But if you want to have another set of rules for living in this trailer together, you could at least let me in on it before expecting me to follow them."

Catra throws her head back with a growl. She squeezes her eyes shut, a grimace tugging on her lips like even breathing the same air as Adora pains her.

"Okay,  _ fine _ ." Catra opens her eyes but keeps staring at the ceiling as she talks. "Rule number one, we're not friends."

Adora exhales through her nose.

"Don't have to tell me that twice."

"Rule number two," Catra goes on, raising her voice. "We only talk if it's about work that we are both involved in. No small talk, no stupid questions about the fucking shower. Rule number three, no one comes into this trailer except for you and me. Don't even think about inviting your idiot friends to hang out."

Adora sits on the edge of the bed now, nails digging into the mattress.

"You could just ask me to respect your privacy without insulting my friends."

Catra ignores that too.

"Rule number four." Catra squints at Adora now; her expression is even harder than before, her voice sultry and low. "You’re going to fuck me on every single surface in this trailer.”

Those words are burning stings, injecting desperate need into Adora’s stomach. She hates how easily arousal boils up between her legs just from that, an already pooling warmth. She feels her body react in ways she doesn’t want it to - her tongue darts out to wet her lips, attracting Catra’s glance and she leans ahead, elbows on her knees.

“Is that all?” Adora asks, barely recognizing her own deep voice.

Catra smirks. Her button nose crinkles, the playful light is back in her eyes. It makes Adora lose her breath.

“For now,” Catra says with a little shrug of her shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “Objections?”

Adora swallows against the lump in her throat.

“None.”

“Good.”

Catra stretches her arms slowly, a cute moan purring from her chest. She kicks the chair back - the legs screeching loudly - and saunters to the bed again. Adora leans back impulsively, half expecting Catra to pin her down to the fourth rule right here and now.

Catra doesn't look at her as she raises a foot up the ladder and climbs up to the top bunk.

Adora exhales. She chews on the inside of her cheek and pushes herself up from the bed swiftly. She grabs her clothes and her little dressing-case to monopolize the bathroom after Catra.

No words are shared between them for the night.

  
*

Adora is awakened by people chatting outside in the trailer park, and Catra's loud snoring.

She blinks sullenly and pulls her phone from under her pillow, clicking it. 4:06 AM. She peeks out the window above the table; the outside world is still in sepia, the sun peeking out from ribbons of clouds.

Adora rubs the last fractures of dreams from her eyes and turns to her side. Catra's arm is hanging down, her fingers twitching slightly in her sleep. The pads of her fingers look so soft, and Adora knows for a fact that they are. She reaches out, still dazed from early hours, and pokes at them gently.

Catra grumbles. Adora snatches her hand back, her heart thrumming in her chest.

...What the  _ hell _ is she doing?

The mattress creaks above her, and the hand disappears from her sight.

Adora unlocks her phone. She has a couple notifications from Glimmer and Bow. The last one is from a couple minutes ago; Bow suggesting getting breakfast together before their day starts at 5:30. Adora's stomach grumbles at the thought immediately, and she texts back a string of emojis.

Then, she gets out of bed as quietly as she can, putting on her clothes and washing up. She peeks at Catra again before she leaves the trailer, a hand on the knob.

Catra must know when she has to wake up, too. Maybe she doesn't even have work today. Besides, it's not Adora's responsibility to make sure she gets up in time.

Adora jingles with the door and slips out.

The cafeteria is already full. Adora waits in a line slithering out of the door. She shovels a mountain of scrambled eggs on a paper plate, gently placing some slices of bacon on top. She maneuvers her wobbly masterpiece on a tray carefully, eyes scanning the crowd for her friends.

She recognizes that pink hair poof from miles away, and makes a beeline for a huge, round table. Glimmer and Bow are not the only ones there - Adora is delighted to find her circle of some of her oldest friends from the crew, finally reunited.

Bow, the best boy from the lighting crew, jumps up as soon as he sees Adora and waves her towards them.

"Adora, we're here!"

Adora tries to wave back, but all she can manage is a slight lift of her tray and a bright grin.

"Hi, guys!"

There’s the always broody Mermista, the special effects supervisor, and Seahawk, her eager, not-boyfriend assistant. Next to him is Perfuma, the greensman from the art department, vibrating with excitement as ever, eyes closed and deep in thought.

"Hey girl," Mermista says. She rests her chin on the back of her hand and kicks the seat on her left for Adora to take.

Adora plops down gratefully.

"Long time no see, crewmate!" Seahawk chimes in.

"Yeah, we haven't seen you in like, forever."

"Where did the universe take you?" Perfuma asks.

"My last year was pretty slow," Adora says shortly, her mouth already full. "I only had a couple commercials." She swallows without chewing on the bite. "I'm glad to see you all again."

"Almost the full dream team," Bow says. "Netossa and Spinnerella are somewhere here too, but you know how they like to spend mornings together."

Glimmer scoffs, rubbing her temple.

"Ugh, they could at least keep it  _ down _ ."

"What?" Adora mumbles into the next bite.

Mermista rolls her eyes and her coffee cup on the table in front of her.

"How could you not hear them yesterday? I thought someone was being murdered." She sounds offended. "I almost got excited."

Oh.

Oh, no.

The bite is stuck in Adora's mouth. She can't bring herself to swallow, her throat so tight and dry. She feels her cheeks burning.

"I, uh," she mumbles. "I'm a heavy sleeper?"

"It was like, six."

"I-I was very tired."

Thankfully, Glimmer comes to her rescue, although the topic only changes from bad to worse.

"No wonder you were. Spending even five minutes with Catra would suck all the life and joy out of anyone. I can't even imagine sharing a trailer with her."

"Catra Weaver?" Mermista drawls. "The stunt girl you had your scene with yesterday?"

"Yeah," Glimmer replies instead of Adora. " _ That _ girl."

"Come on guys, don't be so mean," Perfuma says, lacing her fingers together under her chin. "Scorpia is really fond of her, she can't be that bad."

"Not all of us are gonna base our judgment on your 12-hour crush," Mermista objects with a poke of her fork in her direction. Perfuma puffs herself up, ready to snap back. Mermista is quick to continue: "Didn't you like, cuddle her mid-air?"

"I did not!" Adora yells way too loudly.

"Wait, wait, what?" Glimmer shrieks, staring at Adora like she just confessed kicking a puppy into fire.

"I did not do that," Adora repeats, stressing every word and slamming her fork down. Everyone is looking at her. "I did not! I just-" Her voice falters. She casts her eyes down. "I thought I saw her harness loosen. I didn't have time to think."

Pairs of eyes glance away from Adora's face, one by one. Adora munches on a slice of bacon, breaking the awkward silence with loud cracking.

The bacon tastes like sandpaper in her mouth. She hates how everyone knows why she couldn't let that happen, she hates to feel so seen and pitied. It happened so long ago. She was still new to this whole thing, and she was an idiot, and she made a mistake, and why can't everyone just forget about the whole thing already?!

"I think we can all agree you did the right thing," Bow says then, reaching behind Glimmer to pat Adora's shoulder. "Anyway, before you arrived Perfuma was just about to tell us about her meet-cute with this new stunt girl."

Mermista growls, sinking lower in her seat. The others encourage Perfuma on, and she continues with her story shyly. Her eyes are sparkling as she talks and she gestures excitedly, her voice chirping an octave higher than usual.

Adora cannot bring herself to listen but does her best to pretend.

  
  


Adora has a long day with not much to do; she only has a couple silent scenes with the main cast.

Adora can mindlessly go through it all, barely having to move - she stays in the background, sometimes walking across the screen, sometimes pretending to whisper something into another security guard's ear. The most exciting thing she is directed to do is make a phone call with her back to the camera.

She spends the hours between different takes to hit the gym, going through her fight choreography over and over again, until she can't feel her blood boil that much.

She hasn't seen Catra all day. She probably has a day off after all, or she works at a completely different stage than her.

The absence of her should bring Adora peace, not a whole-day migraine.

So why doesn't it?

  
  


Adora arrives at the trailer around six again. She tries her luck with opening the door without keys. The doorknob is stuck.

Catra is either away, or she keeps the door locked all the time.

Adora gets her keys out of her pocket and unlocks the trailer. She pushes the door in as quietly as she can, but the hinges creak miserably, giving her away.

There's no sign of Catra at first. Adora closes the door behind her, and almost lets out a curious "hello?" before she bites down on her lip. No talking.

She puts her bag down on one of the chairs and sneaks a peek at the top bunk. She sees a pair of long legs wrapped in ripped jeans, crossed. Catra is laying on the bed just like she was when Adora left for work this morning. The faint glow of her phone screen is the only source of light in the dim light.

Adora flicks the lights on. Catra just growls, which Adora decides not to react to.

Her body feels tired and heavy. Maybe Glimmer is right, and Catra's mere presence drinks strength out of her muscles and bones.

A phone rings. It's a heavy bass beat, coming from the top bunk. Adora tries her best not to pay attention, but her mind is so scattered and all over the place that it latches onto everything that is louder than her heart drumming in her ears.

"Hey, Scorp," Catra says in a voice Adora didn't even think she was capable of making. She still sounds raspy, but with a touch of unfamiliar softness. "What's up?"

Adora busies herself with boiling water for a cup of tea. She finds a mug with a broken-off handle and a box with some filters of strawberry flavored black tea in the tiny cupboard.

"Wait, really?" Catra says, her voice muffled. "How did you even find him?"

The caller says something on the other side of the line and Catra giggles.

Adora freezes with the mug in her hand before slamming it down hard on the countertop. Catra's laugh is an adorable tingle, high and full of gentle appreciation.

The kettle whistles. Adora's whole body is rigid.

What's… happening right now.

"Oh my God," Catra whimpers then, sniffing. "Are you kidding me?  _ Lashor _ ?" Her voice breaks, and she giggles again. "This is the best fucking thing I've heard all day."

The caller goes on for longer now. Catra listens without cutting in, only humming softly at times, her clothes rustling as she rolls into a more comfortable position.

Adora pours the boiling water into the mug, throwing the filter in so hard it splashes drops of hot water onto her hand. She hisses.

Adora's anger comes in waves. Not even anger - frustration, the kind of black, heavy bile that sticks to her throat and drips down into her stomach like mud. Her heart is beating fast, fingers shaking as she curls them around the mug so hard her knuckles whiten.

It makes no sense.

Of course Catra has friends. Of course she can be sweet and soft and kind to someone who isn't Adora. Of course she is more than just her sharp tongue and her sharp nails. No one, not even her, could be so prickly all the time, so full of venom to spit and rage to burn anyone who dares to get close.

"I'm- yeah, hold on."

Catra presses the phone to her other ear now, drawing a shoulder up to keep it in place. She hops off the top bunk with a tiny grunt, not bothering to use the ladder.

She sneaks out the door without acknowledging Adora in any way. Her voice is just a distant murmur now, and Adora can't make out any words.

Not like she could hear anything over the ringing of her ears.

  
*

When Adora awakens the next day, she feels like she was beaten half to death..

Catra's alarm is going off, a merciless rock song with a screaming guitar solo. Catra's nails click on the screen, and the music stops. Adora hears her shuffling and moaning, Catra's body complaining very loudly at the thought of getting out of bed.

Adora presses her thighs together and rolls towards the wall. She still has an hour to stay in bed, and while she has no intention of going back to sleep, she wants to wait to get up until the coast is clear.

Catra takes longer to get ready than her. She yawns a lot and drags her body from surface to surface, bumping into things.

Adora stays still, only moving when Catra closes the door behind her twenty minutes later.

Adora gets up.

  
  


Her second scene for the day is a continuation from day one of shooting. Once her and Catra's characters survive the explosion, they shoot a closer scene of their bodies hitting the floor and scrambling to their feet, facing each other, ready to attack.

Juliet gives Adora a new script right before the first take. The new instructions are scribbled on the margins in hurried handwriting, ordering Adora to roll with Catra's body in her arms, landing on top of her. As she pushes up, she needs to keep a heartbeat of pause, staring down at Catra.

Adora reads the instructions a couple times, her lips forming words without making any sound, memorizing everything.

A sharp elbow digs into her side, making her wince.

"Ready to go, hotshot?"

Adora crinkles the script in her fist and snaps her head up. Catra stands right next to her - her costume is burnt and ripped, exposing skin sprayed ashy gray. The shade of her helmet is broken so Adora can see her face, fake blood dripping from a scar painted on her forehead.

Catra raises her eyebrows at her.

"What?"

"You're talking to me," Adora blurts out, her tone flat.

"It's work, dumbass." She comes 'round Adora, hips swaying. She practically purrs into her face: "Besides, you're gonna crush me a couple times. I think we both know how that's gonna end for you."

Adora swallows.

"Sounds like you gave it much thought already."

"Maybe." Catra shrugs nonchalantly and circles her again like prey. It makes Adora scoff. "I know how desperate you can get."

Adora's head turns with Catra.

"Says the girl who threw herself at me two days ago."

Catra jerks and halts, looking around. Her voice is a threatening hiss:

" _ Shut it _ ."

"I will if you do."

Catra turns on her heel, mumbling to herself:

"Honestly, what did I expect?"

Catra takes her spot above the X taped on the ground and doesn't look at Adora anymore.

Catra's right to ask that question.

What  _ did _ she expect, talking to Adora like that when they both know she's capable of being normal? Why can't she use that sweet little voice on Adora instead of this low, raspy purr that is dripping with contempt?

Adora cracks her fingers and takes her spot, too. She breathes out in a deep sigh, knees moving back and forth.

Action.

The first take goes horribly. The second one too.

Adora can't focus to save her life. Not when she's rolling on the ground with Catra's warm body pressed to hers, not when she smells so nice and she clings to Adora so tight, and she makes those grunting, throaty moans as they fight.

Adora pushes her chest up, her legs tangled with Catra's. She looks her in the eye, following the new script, and Catra squints back. Catra's face doesn't show on camera so she wears a smug, crooked smirk, her eyebrows arch up.

Catra sinks her teeth into her lip and rocks her hips up; the motion is barely noticeable, but does the job alright, setting Adora's abdomen on fire, her lips part with a breathless gasp.

Adora forgets to stand up.

"Cut! Take five, everyone."

Adora staggers to her feet and nearly falls on her ass. She manages to keep herself up and dusts off her suit with quick little slaps.

Catra rises as well, much slower than Adora. She helps herself up elegantly with a hand on her knee, her eyes find Adora's.

Catra says nothing. She doesn't have to. Adora's face is an open book, she knows that, and now it tells a story about a girl who would very much like to bodyslam a certain someone into the nearest surface to take revenge, to teach a lesson, to taste and bite and make her  _ scream- _

An assistant walks by them and pushes a bottle of water into Adora's hand.

Adora looks down at the bottle, then up to the assistant.

"Thank you?"

"You looked like you needed it," the assistant says, kind and innocent.

"You're right," Catra purrs, her surprise in her voice so obviously fake. "She does look thirsty."

Before Adora could snap back, Catra leaves the game while she's winning. It's a cowardly thing to do. Even if she was called aside, that's a coward’s move, running away from Adora's perfect comeback. One that she hadn't figured out yet, but she was getting there.

Adora gulps straight from the bottle, her throat burning and dry.

“You seem tense,” a voice calls from her right, the director strolling before her with a concerned pout. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Adora chirps desperately, clutching the bottle in her fist. “All good.”

“You can tell me anything, you know,” Double Trouble drawls, crossing their arms with a tilt of their hips. “The success of this movie comes from all of us feeling comfortable.”

Adora swallows thickly.

“No, I- I’m comfortable. Nothing about this job makes me feel bad. Really. Nothing. Nothing at all.”

Double Trouble hums but doesn’t pressure anything. Their eyes wander, finding Catra in the shadows as she is tapping her phone, an SFX artist touching up on her bloody face. “I wish I could say the same.”

Adora’s glance follows theirs.

“What do you mean?”

Double Trouble sighs exasperatedly, their head lolling back.

“It’s pretty personal, you know,” they say, hands clutching their elbows. “I don't want to burden you with that stuff.”

“It’s no burden,” Adora assures them, furrowing her brows. "I'm… I'm here to help if I can."

Double Trouble shoots her a quick glance before letting their arms fall, and they roll their shoulders as they straighten. Adora takes a couple sips again, so Double Trouble feels welcome to continue.

“Some people are just giving me a hard time right now,” they sigh. “I can’t blame them, honestly… It’s never easy to work with your ex.”

Adora nearly inhales the whole bottle. She curls her fingers into a fist before hitting her chest hard, trying her best not to choke.

Double Trouble raises their hands, panic creeping in their voice:

“Oh my gosh, are you okay?”

Adora’s lungs rattle.

“Yeah! Yeahyeahyeah, just- I’m sorry, your ex?”

Double Trouble looks embarrassed now, pouting.

"I thought everybody knew by now. People talk," they say, flipping their hair back from their shoulder. "You know, Catra and I go a  _ long _ way back. Longer than our careers, even…" A strange little smile is tugging at their lips. It looks almost nostalgic, their voice softening. "Sometimes I can't believe I dated that girl."

Adora’s stomach shrinks into a knot. She doesn't know how to reply to that, so she keeps quiet.

Double Trouble takes her silence as embarrassment, and they're quick to add:

"It's no secret, really. Almost everyone knows. I'm surprised she didn't tell you."

"We don't talk much," Adora says sourly.

"Really? You seem to be around each other a lot."

"We're-" Adora swallows, her cheeks heating up. "We really aren't. It's just work."

"Oh, I didn't mean to touch a nerve," Double Trouble says.

"You didn't."

"Well, I'm relieved," they say, crossing their arms elegantly.

"Huh?"

"That I didn't touch a nerve?"

Adora tries to speak, but no sound comes out of her throat. She isn't even sure she follows or understands what Double Trouble is implying, but-

Double Trouble's eyes release Adora's, and it feels like chains breaking off Adora's lungs. She breathes out slowly as Double Trouble turns their head towards Catra again.

Catra peeks up from her phone, staring right at them. Her upper lip curls, her teeth showing. The threatening shimmer in her eyes is clear as day and cuts like a knife. She glances between Double Trouble and Adora before she buries her face into her phone again.

Double Trouble grins, satisfied. Their phone pings. They don't check it. It pings again.

"This probably sounds so weird" they go on, clearly not bothered by Adora's lack of participation, or their own noisy phone, "but sometimes I feel like the angrier I make her, the more she wants me back."

"That is weird," Adora blurts out before she could stop herself. "I mean-"

Thankfully, Double Trouble just laughs, throwing their head back.

"It is, isn't it? But Kitten is like that. At least that's how she was when she was mine." They pause for a couple moments. Then, they squint back at Adora above their shoulder. "Thank you, darling. You've been a great help. I feel so much better."

"No problem?" Adora says, weak and confused. Something doesn't sit well with her; maybe the phrasing Double Trouble used about  _ owning _ Catra, or something in their tone that she cannot name or explain. Either way, she feels too tight in her own skin, her legs desperate to take her far, far away. "I didn't- I didn't do anything."

Catra's raspy voice cuts through the stage.

_ "Do you ever check your fucking texts? Get your ass here, Dee. Now!" _

Double Trouble chuckles. They look at Adora with a raised brow as if they would say " _ see? I told you _ ". Adora's jaw pops open a bit.

"Meow," Double Trouble drawls then, quiet enough that only Adora can hear. "Looks like I'm gonna get some kitty scratches."

They wink at Adora as they turn on their heel. Adora's skin is burning hot, the knot in her stomach tightens painfully.

The next three takes are Catra's fault. After she had a brief, but very dangerous looking conversation with Double Trouble, Catra arrived back to set with a brand new attitude that is even more insufferable than before.

She doesn't pay attention, her moves are rigid and hurried, and the angrier she gets, the more mistakes she makes.

Adora is getting tired, her skull feels too tight for her brain. When they take their places for the sixth time, Adora cannot bear the thought of doing this once more, so she does something very, very stupid.

She puts a warm hand on Catra's shoulder, squeezing gently. Catra looks at her like Adora's lost her mind, showing her teeth to bite back.

"You're okay," Adora says coyly. "We're gonna get it right this time."

Catra slaps her hand away.

"Don't touch me in front of people," Catra mutters. She sounds like she's sulking; her voice is quiet and surprisingly calm.

"Sorry," Adora whispers, and she means it.

"Action!"

They do get it right.

Their timing is perfect as their bodies hit the floor, and they bring a little pull-and-tug to the rolling that makes it look much more exciting.

Catra lets her arms fall to the ground, her body laid out under Adora's, weak and vulnerable. She tries no funny business, her face is controlled now, mirroring her characters' emotions rather than her own as she stares up at Adora.

Adora keeps her hips down, pinning Catra to the ground. She pushes herself up by her hands next to Catra's head; strings of her hair falling into her face, fluttering as she is breathing heavily.

She doesn't know how she looks at Catra. She's a little lost, actually.

But Catra is a good actress. Whatever Adora thinks she sees on her face right now, is not from her, and not for Adora.

It's just way too tempting to take it that way, even with Adora knowing what she knows now.

Double Trouble's words are pulling her down like anchors attached to her. Adora knows exactly what they meant now - Catra is still not over them.

And maybe they aren't over Catra, either.

Adora swallows thickly. She feels her fingers twitch on their own.

What even is Catra doing with her if she wants her ex back? What Catra and Adora had has never been more than sex; no strings attached, no feelings involved except for the frustration and the fury that are like gasoline to the flames of lust for them.

Adora never thought their hookups were something important enough to be even worth losing. They aren't really doing anything, so why ever stop it? It's not like she was going to find herself a girlfriend with her kind of job, and she couldn't say she was planning to anyway. She's been sleeping with Catra for more than two years now, literally whenever they meet. She's a handful. She's enough.

She  _ was  _ enough.

Maybe Adora doesn't want a relationship. But what if Catra does? What if one day she'll just sarcastically thank Adora for everything and call it off because she'll sleep with her partner from that time on?

Double Trouble seems like an interesting character, and Catra is cool, too. Maybe Adora could still touch her? Maybe the three of them could come to an agreement so Adora can spend some time with Catra trapped between her legs, writhing in her grip, moaning for more of Adora, more of her mouth and her fingers and heat. There are so many boundaries she’s willing to cross not to lose that-

"Adora!"

Adora jolts. She is still hovering above Catra, who's expression changed drastically since the last time Adora managed to pay attention to it.

Catra's eyes are glaring now, her upper lip curled into a scornful grimace.

"Get off me already," Catra snarls, pushing her palms into Adora's shoulders.

"Sorry," Adora mumbles and obeys. "Sorry. I just… zoned out."

"Yeah, I noticed."

"I said I was sorry!”

“Whatever.”

Catra practically runs off and out of the stage door while Adora is still kneeling on the ground.

Adora curls her fingers into fists.

  
  


Catra isn't waiting for her in the trailer like Adora expected her to after all that flirting before their first take. The space is empty and unlit when Adora steps in and locks the door without giving it a second thought, and pulls the key out of the lock.

Adora is standing in the middle of the foreign space, still not used to staying here.  She had grown used to staying in different places and moving around a lot, both inside and outside the system. Not once had she had a home, so there was never anything to miss. But the anxiety is still the same, the sour feeling of never being wanted, or needed, and every time she feels like she’s invading the space she was given to stay in.

Now that she has her own apartment, she starts to feel little whims of that homesickness she’s never known. She overpacked so she could try and cling to her possessions, if nothing else, because those are always with her, grounding her somehow.

Catra arrives before Adora could even move. She steps inside and locks the door as well.

Adora turns slowly, eyes searching for Catra’s. Catra’s eyelashes flutter, and there are those gorgeous irises cutting into Adora’s insides. They slide down on Adora’s body, coming back up, settling on her lips.

Once she’s inside, Catra wastes no time. She walks straight up to Adora, arms wrapped tight around her neck. Adora’s hands fly to Catra’s hips subconsciously, her thoughts rushing around her mind too fast to catch up with them. She leans in for a kiss, Catra drawing back with her fingers in Adora’s ponytail.

Catra presses her lips to Adora’s jaw, her breath hot on her skin.

Adora’s brain short circuits, her gaze flickers around the room, counting the surfaces. Her tongue darting out to wet her chapped lips, anticipation is a throbbing need between her legs. Her imagination is already wandering, all possibilities flashing up before her eyes when reality pulls her back in, just like Catra’s determined fingers pulling her head back to expose more skin for her to lick and peck.

Catra's free hand pushes on Adora's shoulder, backing her to the window and pushing her down onto the chair. Catra's lips never leave her neck as she climbs into Adora’s lap with a slow, tentative roll of her hips, thighs straddling hers.

Adora blurts out, raspy and weak:

“Ch… cherry."

Catra releases her, drawing back.

"Not in the mood?"

It would be so easy to lie, but Adora doesn't do that.

"No, I am, just-" She leaves her palms on Catra's waist. "Are you really okay with this?"

Catra snorts, ending in a short chuckle. When Adora doesn’t move an inch, her expression the same as before - serious, and just a touch concerned - Catra scowls.

“Oh, you’re serious.” Suspicion creeps in Catra’s voice. “What is this about?”

Adora could lie again.

“Just. Don’t know if I’m really the one you want to sleep with.”

“Unfortunately, you are.”

“What about Double Trouble?”

Catra jerks in her lap. She lifts herself up on her feet, sprawling with Adora and the chair trapped between her thighs. The loss of warm contact gives Adora a heartache, already hating herself for even starting this conversation - especially when Catra's features harden as she looks down on Adora, and not in a good way. She takes Adora's hands and shoves them away from her waist, her own hand clutching the backrest above Adora's shoulder.

Catra keeps her voice as controlled as she can, lips and teeth barely moving.

"What do they have to do with anything?"

"I'm pretty sure you know."

Catra's chest is heaving, her voice growing stronger.

"That fucking little-" Catra breathes out, a hand in her hair. She combs back her messy curls, shaking her head. "What did they tell you?"

"Just that… you were together. A while ago. Look, Catra, you don't owe me anything-"

"Damn right I don't."

Adora snaps:

"Let me finish! I’m just trying to tell you that it’s fine if you want to be with someone else, I’m simply asking you to tell me and I’ll-”

“God, stop talking!” Catra presses a palm to Adora’s lips, her eyes fall shut with an agonizing squeeze. She adds, weaker now, a plea and an order: “Stop talking.”

Adora swallows. Catra doesn’t let her go as she opens her eyes, glaring at Adora in the most twisted, furious expression Adora has ever seen on her. Her nails dig into Adora’s cheek, pretty curls falling so close to Adora’s nose.

“New rule,” Catra croaks, leaning closer. She waits for Adora to look into her eyes, getting lost in those gleaming, mismatched irises, air stuck in her lungs, and her expression frozen. Then, Catra says: “ _ Stay away _ from Dee.”

Adora’s stomach shrinks. The way Catra spits that like a threat, voice trembling, still so firm and determined - it’s clear. It’s so clear now, and Adora can’t keep eye contact anymore.

Catra doesn’t let her look away. She cups her jaw now, rough, so Adora is able to speak but not move her head any other way.

“Say you will.”

“Catra, we’re working with them,” Adora says faintly.

“Apart from that,” Catra stresses. The light in her eyes shifts, her voice tainted with desperation now as she tugs on Adora’s jaw. “Adora, say it! Say you’ll stay away from them.”

Adora takes Catra’s wrist, pulling her hand away from her face, her thumb stroking Catra’s wrist. She feels Catra’s heartbeat, frantically thrumming in her veins. She must be so scared that Adora will mess this up for her, so Adora does her best to soothe and reassure her.

“Okay, okay,” she says, quiet and resigned. Her body feels heavy as she lets out a sigh spouting deep from her belly, but it’s worth it, because Catra’s shoulders drop, tension seeping out of them. “I will.”

Catra says nothing, just nods. She sits back down onto Adora’s thighs, still sprawling; her hands slip under Adora’s shirt, crawling up along the sharp lines of her abs, cupping her breasts.

Adora yanks her close and kisses her rough, all teeth and tongue and little, shivering gasps as her nails sink into Catra’s waist and the nape of her neck.

Their days are numbered, but Adora won’t go down without a fight.

She won’t let Catra forget her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are starting to get fun, huh?
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, thank you for 100+ subs already, you guys are fucking awesome and I don't deserve you. I truly hope you liked this chapter, please leave me a comment if you do, they truly make my days and keep me going.
> 
> Please consider checking my socials and look out for illustrations, sneak peeks and bts annoyance from me, there will be a lot.
> 
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	3. Rule #3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _3\. No talking._

Catra is a fucking idiot.

She had one job - playing Dee's game, following their rules so she can have a career she’d always dreamed of. She should have kept her distance, let them have their way, not interfered. She should have accepted whatever came her way, kept her mouth shut, and played her role whether or not the cameras were rolling.

Adora was kissing her like she wanted to steal her breath, her hands roaming up and down on Catra's back. The heels of her palms rub the tension out of Catra's muscles as curious fingers hook into her shirt and burrow under, nails first.

All Catra can do is cling to Adora's shoulders and sigh into her mouth, welcoming every flick of her tongue and those cold teeth that sink into Catra's lip. Catra feels her eyebrows knit as her thoughts keep wandering, whisking her further away from the warmth of the embrace she so desperately craves.

If Catra is a fucking idiot, then there are no words in any language to describe Adora. Catra couldn't believe how easy it was for Dee to get under her skin and poison her with their bullshit in like, what? Five minutes? Adora fell victim so fast and so hard, and Catra couldn’t just _watch_.

Relationships are games to Dee, and people are objects to tinker with and break open, left to bleed. They had done that to her when they were dating, and Catra wasn’t even that invested in that relationship - she used Dee to fill a hole in her soul that was yearning for any kind of companionship, a safety net, and they were just there. She shouldn't have expected more for using them than to be used in return.

And they still managed to break her.

Adora grabs a handful of Catra's hair, pulling her head to the side. Her lips are everywhere on Catra's face, little pecks peppered here and there with a promising hint of teeth.

Catra moans weakly.

She can take Dee's shit, but Adora? Adora is different. She's a fucking puppy, and she can chew and pee on everything Catra loves, she can be as fucking annoying as she possibly can, but Catra still can't just - She can't just let that happen.

Dee will ruin Adora.

Adora's warm hand slides up Catra's stomach now, already under her shirt. Catra's whole body shivers, mouth falling open. Adora captures her parted lips again, moaning into her mouth like she found fucking salvation, like she's trying to prove a point, tugging Catra higher on her thighs.

"Cherry."

Adora freezes. She draws back, looking up at Catra with a soft arch of her thick brows and she pulls her lower lip between her teeth.

Catra is breathing heavily; she tries her best to hide it, pressing her lips into a straight line, inhaling through her nose. She stands up from Adora's lap, her thighs weak and shaking. Adora's hands slip off of her body, leaving goosebumps and something thick and cold rushing in her veins.

"I changed my mind," Catra croaks and pulls a leg over Adora's thighs, distancing herself further. She smooths her hair back and down with both hands, fingers combing through the curls.

Adora nods solemnly. Her hands fall onto her knees, fingers digging into her jeans before she starts scratching her own nails absentmindedly.

"About… what?” She stammers, before asking carefully: "The whole thing?"

Those stormy blue eyes are shining with something Catra doesn’t even dare to think about, so she turns away, avoiding looking at them.

“About tonight,” she says. “I guess I'm the one who's not in the mood."

It’s not fully a lie. She’s not mad enough - not mad at Adora, at least. It wouldn't be safe.

"Okay," Adora says with a huge, relieved huff of breath. "Okay," she repeats, barely audibly. Catra isn't sure she was supposed to hear that.

Catra grabs her leather jacket and throws it on her shoulders without sliding her arms through. She taps her pocket; her phone is still there.

If Adora wants to jack off in peace, she can give her that. Catra is throbbing between her legs, too, but she needs some fresh air more than release. She fumbles with the door for a while, her palms slippery with sweat, just like the insides of her thighs. It's uncomfortable to walk while she's practically flowing down her legs, but Catra will waste no time to rush into the bathroom and deal with that.

Catra leaves her keys in the lock and slams the door behind her.

The sun is setting over the horizon; up where Catra is, on the high roof of one of the huge stage complexes, the flaming beams are still warm and blinding.

Catra shrugs her jacket off and lets it flop down onto the concrete. Her phone knocks inside her pocket at the impact but she doesn't care.

She takes a deep breath and steps up onto the high railing. It's narrow enough that if she faces ahead, her soles and toes are dangling off the sides. Catra turns to her left, arms raised in line with her shoulders. She walks like she used to walk on rope, extended high above the brightly lit floor.

She reaches the edge of the building and stares ahead. The rails on the next one are far away - but not too far. Not for her.

Catra backs up, one foot after the other, tightens her muscles to gain strength, and starts running.

Time slows down when she's flying mid-air before touching down on the other rail perfectly. Feeling high from that rush of sweet adrenaline, she twirls in the air, facing the building she jumped from. She bends backwards then, hands clasping around both sides of the rail, head hanging down.

She pushes her legs up and loops in the air, stopping elegantly when her body is straight upside down. Her arms never tremble supporting her as she bends again, heels knocking on the rail.

Catra straightens her spine, now standing, and breathes out slowly. She feels lighter, but not light enough. She needs a stronger rush that can sweep the bubbling tension out of her body and makes her forget about everything and anything - including Adora.

Adora, staring at her with that kicked puppy expression after she made her promise to keep away from Dee. Adora, asking shyly if Catra would ever want to sleep with her again like she actually gave a fuck about the answer. Adora, now left alone in the trailer, still so aroused, touching herself desperately and fantasizing about Catra the whole time-

Catra grunts and somersaults without thinking. When she lands safely, she goes again, and again, reaching the edge of this building, too.

She stops right at the last second, her supporting ankle hanging above the ten-story high abyss.

The door opens on the roof. Catra snaps her head up, losing balance for a moment. She quickly gains it back but doesn't move from her spot.

The newcomer steps into the pale yellow light, not noticing Catra at first. It gives Catra the advantage to realize who she is.

Fuck.

The newcomer takes a crumpled box of cigarettes out of her bomber jacket. There's a click as she lights one, and takes a drag. She glances up when she breathes the fume out of her nose, clouding her face.

Their eyes meet.

"Circus girl," she exclaims, sarcasm twirling in the air like smoke.

Catra hops down from the rails, forcing her features into something tame and smug.

"I know you remember my name, Lonnie," she purrs, walking closer. "You screamed it more times than I could count."

Lonnie furrows her brows and flicks ash off her cigarette. Catra goes on, her voice hardening:

"What are you doing here?"

"Smoking."

"You know what the fuck I mean."

Catra halts when she's close enough and crosses her arms. Lonnie grins, drawing the cigarette back to her lips. She takes a long drag, keeping eye contact before breathing through the smoke:

"Chill, I'm just visiting someone. I don't work here. But you do, don’t you?"

"So what if I do?"

Lonnie's grin grows even wider.

"Then I would say your _method_ did get you ahead. Congratulations, I guess."

Hair stands up on Catra's arms and she hisses:

"What?"

"I'm just saying you've clearly been working hard," she takes a meaningful pause, "under someone."

"You don't get to talk to me like that," Catra spits, trying to tower above Lonnie as she raises a fist between them threateningly.

Lonnie doesn't flinch. She simply opens the box of cigarettes and shakes it in front of Catra as an offering to something - anything but peace or an apology.

Catra doesn't take it.

"I _quit_ ," she says firmly.

Lonnie shrugs and pushes the box back into her pocket.

"Don't get so offended," she says nonchalantly. "You got what you wanted, who cares how, right? Sleeping with the director is a pretty classic move."

"I don't sleep around to get ahead," Catra snaps again, not like she owes Lonnie, or _anyone_ an explanation. Her voice grows high with frustration. "I don't _need_ to. I get roles because I'm fucking good at what I'm doing, and I don't need to fuck anyone to earn that-"

Catra clips her words; realization is a cold shiver running down her spine.

Adora.

Isn't that what Catra is doing to her? Didn't she let Dee offer her something bigger, better, in exchange of keeping her relationship with Adora to fuel the flames their characters need onscreen? Without Catra fucking her, they lose their dynamic, they lose what they need to keep their jobs, they lose everything they've been working hard for-

Catra feels her vision blurring.

She snatches the already lit cigarette from Lonnie and takes a long drag. She clutches her elbow with her opposite hand, letting her right fall with the cigarette pinched between her fingers. She still keeps the smoke in her lungs as she taps her foot, exhaling very, very slowly.

She wants to throw up.

Lonnie keeps quiet beside her, lighting another cigarette for herself. They smoke in silence for a couple minutes; Lonnie doesn't offer anything to ease Catra, and Catra is grateful for that. It wouldn't be sincere anyway, they both know that much.

Catra reaches the end of her cigarette without retching, and smears the bud on the wall next to Lonnie's head.

Their eyes meet again, and Catra backs away.

She asks:

"Why did you stop fucking me?"

Lonnie blinks. She runs the tip of her tongue along her teeth, trying to find the right words.

"I never thought you took me seriously," she says then, slow and low. "I got fed up. Wanted something more. Something real."

Catra sets her jaw and nods.

"I'm in an open relationship now, though," Lonnie goes on, raising a brow suggestively. "It's up to you."

Catra considers for a moment. _Really_ considers it; she's still pretty worked up from Adora's touch and the promises she made with her hands and mouth, only to turn into wasted chances and throbbing warmth between Catra's thighs.

It would be so easy to grab Lonnie and take everything she offers, right here on top of this roof like they did when they were eighteen.

Messy hookups and bad decisions were their thing already. Lonnie used to bully the shit out of Catra for starting to work as a circus artist after high school, and kept coming to her performances to wait for her and pick a quarrel.

And one time, that turned into something hot and heavy which neither of them was able to pass up.

Catra could do that again. Lonnie is still attractive - all taut muscles and heavy curves, and her features had grown sharper, more chiseled.

Lonnie's glance tangles into hers, waiting patiently for an answer.

Catra wishes her eyes were stormy blue.

"Nah," Catra says, her throat dry. "Pass."

"A'right," Lonnie says with the cigarette dangling between her teeth as she zips her jacket up. "You know best."

"Yeah. Congrats on the… relationship."

Lonnie hums.

"Congrats on the role. I mean it."

"Right."

Lonnie doesn't have to say anything more, Catra hears her thoughts loud and clear in the silence. Lonnie pities her for having less than her, for still being stuck right where she was at eighteen - meaningless hookups with no real attachments, no one who cares about her. No one to trust, to rely on, to love and be loved in return. No one to come home to.

She desperately wants to go back to the trailer.

Catra turns on her heel without a word, hopping back on the rail. She starts running, jumping above the deep end again.

She lands a little more wobbly now, and she's relieved to take her jacket from the floor and put it on. She didn’t realize how chilly the air grew now that the sun is settling behind the horizon, the scenery turning dim gray.

Her feet take her back to the trailer, but she left her mind somewhere on the roof.

  
  


Catra lounges around the gym on Friday, waiting for the choreographer and Adora; neither of them are running late just yet, it was Catra who felt the unholy pull that dragged her out of bed earlier than she usually wakes up.

Adora was still asleep when she jumped off the top bunk, landing softly without a sound. Catra dressed in maroon leggings and a loose hoodie with just a sports bra underneath, washed up and left quickly like she'd done something illegal.

She shrugs off the hoodie and takes a hair tie between her teeth now, holding up her long curls. She hears laughing and chatting outside, and some sweet, hurried _bye_ s before Adora walks in alone.

Catra lets her eyes wander down Adora's thighs, bare skin peeking out from under her red shorts. As she puts her hair up a ponytail, she feels Adora's gaze burning the nape of her neck.

She peeks back above her shoulder. Adora jerks her head away, pulling the straps of her backpack off her arms and puts it down on the bench.

Soon enough, Catra hears another set of heavy steps closing in. Both her and Adora turn towards the door, standing a safe distance away from each other.

A woman steps in, and Adora immediately gasps next to Catra. Catra glances at her; Adora's cheeks are flushed pink, her eyes sparkling.

Catra's glance is right back at the woman. Well, she's no woman, but a fucking unit, shoulders so broad she barely fits through the door. She's so jacked that her muscles draw curves on her whole body, in places Catra didn't think was possible. Her features are hard, set into a scowl that quickly dissolves when she notices Adora.

"Blondie!" The woman roars. Her voice makes Catra's ears ring.

"Hi, Huntara," Adora practically _sighs_ next to her, her voice growing high and weak.

Huntara leaps towards her and slams her giant palm on Adora's shoulder, patting it. Catra half expects the floor to crack under Adora's feet, but she barely winces, her whole face blooming with color.

"Good to see you again, kid!"

Catra's whole body goes rigid, her words cutting through the air, low and cold:

"Do you have to yell? We're right here."

Huntara turns to her, looking down at Catra, shadows clouding half her face.

"And you are, Curly? I've never seen you before."

"Yeah, I usually work with bigger studios," Catra purrs, raising a hand and flicking her fingers. "You know, with a top tier crew, not Party City wrestlers?"

Huntara snorts, folding those ridiculously huge arms on her chest. She smirks challengingly; a sharp tooth sinks into her bottom lip.

"Oh, you're one of those brats. Okay, I'll bite. We're starting with you, movie star. I hope you know your moves."

Catra takes a step closer.

"Do you?"

Huntara says nothing back to that; she simply raises her arms towards the mattress in the back. Catra scoffs and turns, her ponytail flapping violently behind her as she takes her position by the mattress.

Huntara steps in front of her. She gives Catra a rundown of the choreography she already knows so pays no attention to - something hot is blooming from her chest, settling down on her mind like a thick fog.

As soon as Huntara finishes talking, Catra gets to action. She leaps at her like she is supposed to, and her first blow is a right hook she needs to miss. She barely does as her timing takes Huntara by surprise, and she bends back a second too late. Catra's knuckles graze Huntara's rock hard shoulder, and Catra needs to focus to keep her balance since she went for it a little too hard.

Huntara tries to sweep Catra off her feet, arms on the floor. Catra does an elegant backflip, playing it more lazy and cool than she should. She is aware of the cocky smirk that tugs on her lips but she doesn't care to do anything about it.

Huntara makes a run at her; now it's her turn to hit and miss as Catra crouches then pushes herself up, a fist pretending to crash with Huntara's jaw.

Huntara stumbles, offering Catra the opportunity to pull her down and trap her in a headlock. Catra tightens her grip, just a little, as a warning; Huntara growls and grabs her by the waist to pull Catra's whole body over her shoulder and slam into the mattress as an endgame.

Here is where Catra is not finished playing.

As she is lifted in the air, she wraps her thighs around Huntara's neck. With the power of surprise, Catra supports herself with her palms on the floor and drags Huntara to the side. Huntara loses balance and her body falls down the mattress with a heavy thud that shakes the whole floor.

There's a breath of heavy silence.

Catra is panting slightly, dragging her leg from under Huntara's neck and staggering to her feet. She turns and reaches an offering hand for Huntara who glares up at her, upper lip curling to show her teeth.

Catra squints and wiggles her fingers.

"So sorry," she says sweetly. Huntara takes her hand, and Catra squeezes it as tight as she can, her eyes hardening. "I got carried away."

Huntara keeps her gaze as she stands up, not relying on Catra whatsoever. She blows a long, loose thread of hair out of her face. Her voice is a quiet, raspy whisper:

"Make sure it never happens again."

Catra smiles with a little pout.

"My bad. I didn't think you'd be so easy to take down."

Huntara snatches her hand away and gestures for Catra to step back. Catra obeys, sauntering back to the bench with lazy sways of her hips.

Her eyes find Adora's for the first time since Huntara stepped inside. What she sees there is exactly what she was looking for; Adora's pupils are blown out, dilated into dark petals, her irises are just rings of sky-blue flame. She is staring at Catra like she always does before she takes her; like she wanted to grab and shove her into a dark corner and ravish her.

Catra bites the inside of her cheek and tears her gaze away. She plops down onto the bench, spreading her knees. She does her best to avoid looking at Adora as she goes through her part with Huntara, only sparing her another look once they're both up to practice together and facing each other.

Adora's eyes are anything but tamer and calmer. Catra scrunches her nose with a smirk; Adora's lashes flutter before she forces her features into a scowl.

"Ready?" Huntara asks them, standing a couple feet away.

"Ready," Adora says, full of confidence in her voice and in her pose.

"Curly?"

Catra raises her jaw.

"Ready."

"Let's see how well you two work together."

Catra surges ahead, raising her fist. Adora is more tuned to Catra's moves and rhythm than Huntara was; their timing is perfect as they play off their next moves on each other's attacks. Catra's body feels light despite her muscles straining - with Adora, the choreography turns into something similar to acro dancing which Catra is well familiar with, and sometimes still misses.

Catra numbs her body for Adora so she can lunge and slam her into the mattress a little too rough.

Catra gasps at the impact, her arms dropping down by her head, mouth hanging open.

Adora leans above her upside down, cocking her head. It's not just a gesture to make sure Catra is okay - there's a faint but visible curl of the corner of her mouth, a smug little smirk that has a different question to ask - _is that all you can take?_

Catra pushes herself up, making Adora draw back so they don't collide.

"Go again," Huntara says.

So they do. They go again, and again; with each round, things get a little more heated, their skin a little more sweaty, their ponytails a little more undone. Every fibre in Catra's body is hyper aware of how it's dragged along Adora's back and over that prettily curved shoulder. Adora gets slightly more handsy, too; during the last try, she grabs Catra where her ass meets her thigh instead of her waist.

Catra crashes into the mattress, trying to catch her breath.

Adora is standing by Catra's head, hands in fists as she's staring down at her, rosy lips parted.

Catra hears Huntara's voice muffled and quiet, like it's coming from a distance.

"Alright, let's wrap this up for today. Good job, Blondie. You're not a lost cause either, Curly."

"Wow, thanks," Catra mumbles, her eyes never leaving Adora's.

Adora chuckles at that, setting Catra's belly on fire. Huntara says something else and finally leaves - Catra counts her heavy steps fading away as Adora comes 'round her, stepping onto the mattress. Catra feels the waves of Adora walking, turning towards her.

The door of the gym closes with a loud thump.

Adora drops to her knees and throws herself on top of Catra, pressing down with her whole weight, locking her lips in a kiss that takes Catra's remaining breath away.

Adora is propped on her elbows, her hands are in Catra's hair, tugging and combing through her messy ponytail. She shoves a thigh between Catra's legs and starts rocking without hesitation.

Catra's hands crumple Adora's shorts so she can sink her nails into her ass. She rolls her hips up as much as Adora's body lets her, meeting Adora halfway, their lips sealed on to each other's.

She comes without needing to take anything off.

Adora does, too.

  
  


The next day of shooting means Catra will have to face Dee again. She isn't sure she's ready for it, let alone being forced to work with Adora in front of their observing eyes.

But she doesn't have a fucking choice.

Adora left for breakfast early on, probably meeting her circle of stupid friends again. Catra barely steps into the cafeteria and grabs a warm pastry from the first tray, already turning on her heel.

She feels a little queasy, going through MUAH like she is a shell of a person, barely registering anything people tell or ask of her.

It doesn't get better when all of a sudden, she finds herself in position. Adora is there, too - whenever she got here Catra didn't notice.

"You alright there, Kitten?" Dee purrs from their chair, crossing their legs and drawing lazy circles in the air with their foot.

Catra's blood pressure is immediately over the fucking roof.

"Fucking peachy," Catra growls, taking a deep breath and counting to ten.

She manages to get her shit together enough when the cameras start to roll, and Catra snaps back from wherever her mind was trapped.

She hunches like the script tells her to, clutching her arm covered in ripped leather and fake blood. This is a scene that comes much later than their previous ones; Catra's character is beaten half to death, at the mercy of the bodyguard who hesitates to end her life. Adora is standing in front of her with a prop gun in hand, its muzzle just a breath away from Catra's forehead.

Catra glares up, a wild grimace distorting her features.

"What are you gonna do to me?" She growls, making sure it sounds weak and pained.

Adora visibly swallows, the gun shaking in her hand.

She says nothing.

Catra is taken aback for a moment, trying to communicate with a flash of her eyes. _Come on_.

Dee calls for a cut.

Catra straightens and steps back on the X, sparing Adora a quick glance. She looks lost, confused, rolling her wrist with the Glock in her hand like she's unsure what it is and what it's for.

Adora doesn't meet her gaze when the second take starts. Catra goes over her part again, waiting for Adora to finally take over.

When she does, Catra wishes she fucking didn't.

"I haven't decided yet," Adora says, her voice flat and so strained like she's a kid at her first Christmas play with severe stage fright.

Catra snorts on a chuckle.

"What the fuck was that?" She asks, taking up on herself to ruin the shot.

She can hear Dee sigh, exasperated.

Adora furrows her brows at Catra, an offended twitch tugging on her lips.

"I said my line."

"Are _you_ held at gunpoint?" Catra asks, voice trembling with suppressed laughter.

"Kitten, play nice," Dee orders lazily, making a vague gesture towards them. "Go again."

Turns out, repeating only makes things worse for Adora. With every take, she gets more flustered, her voice sounding faker and faker. It's like she's never heard anyone speak normally, and can't even pretend to save her life. Her tone is all over the place, her voice breaks and trembles and jumps between octaves.

At the tenth take, Catra feels genuinely angry and reaches the boiling point. She can't keep her voice down anymore, snapping at Adora:

"What the fuck is your problem? You act like you've never done this before."

Adora grunts. She hides her face in her palm, pushing her shades higher on her nose. When she lets her hand fall, she is ready to let out whatever she managed to force down, yelling back:

"Well maybe I haven't!" She spreads her arms wide, swaying the prop gun and getting up in Catra's face desperately. "Maybe I'm used to punching people and jumping out of helicopters! I've never had lines before, okay?"

Catra throws her head back, arms crossed in front of her chest.

"Oh my God, you really are the worst," she grunts and lolls her head ahead again, leaning into Adora's space too. "You're exactly like those assholes who give stunts a bad name. You're an _actress_ , who acts for a living, so get your shit together and act!"

Dee steps between them, raising their palms so both Catra and Adora are forced to take a step back.

"Ladies, ladies, let's take a breather and calm down, alright?" Dee glances between them. Catra sees that sadistic gleam in their irises that shines clear as day, despite their concerned face. "I think we all need a little break," they say sweetly, eyes drilling into Catra's, "so we can do our very best to make today's shooting work."

Catra scoffs as Dee turns on their heel, keeping Catra's gaze as long as they can. Catra glares back, pushing her tongue to the inside of her cheek.

She walks past Adora then, speaking carefully so only she can hear:

"First meeting room on the left. Wait before you follow me."

Catra hears Adora's breath hitch. She keeps walking like nothing happened, reaching a corridor. She sneaks by a couple doors, offices and empty changing rooms, arriving at the one door she told Adora about.

Catra slides a hand on the knob and quickly looks around. There's no one in sight. Catra opens the door and slips inside, pulling it behind her very quietly.

It's dark inside, since the room has no windows or any source of natural light. Catra contemplates flipping the light switch, but she changes her mind. It's much safer like this.

So the room is dark, a little cold, and pretty empty. Catra's eyes are used to the dim light now; she can see the silhouettes of chairs around a round table, and a narrow sofa in the back. There are some potted plants here and there, and a water cooler with no water in it.

The door creaks open. Catra finds herself in the beam of warm light that pours inside from the corridor. She turns towards that, squinting.

Adora steps inside carefully, eyebrows furrowed. Her gaze flickers around the room before it settles on Catra, her confusion evident in the shining of her eyes.

She closes the door, dousing the light and muffling any sounds coming from the stage.

Catra reaches for Adora's wrist and pulls her close without hesitation. She turns them around so she can usher Adora back until her calves bump into the sofa. Catra pushes Adora down and crawls into her lap, supporting herself on her knees so her hand can freely slide between Adora's legs.

Adora jerks as Catra cups her through her clothes, her thumb pressing down.

Their eyes meet for a second - Adora's fall half-mast, lips popping open.

Catra moves her thumb, and swallows Adora's whimper when she catches her lips in a heated kiss. She draws back to grab Adora's wrists and slam her hands down onto the sofa, palms up. Catra puts her knees on them, trapping Adora so she cannot move.

"You need," Catra breathes between bites and pecks, her fingers fumbling with the buttons and zipper of Adora's pants now, "to _relax_."

Adora chokes on a noise that might as well have been a "yes.” Catra lifts her palm to Adora's lips, silencing her as her right hand burrows under the waistband of Adora's briefs.

Adora moans into her hand, eyes squeezed shut. She's already wet from Catra's fingers stroking, sliding down to smear some of her shine up where she needs it. Adora huffs and squirms in Catra's grip, and Catra peeks up at the clock behind the sofa.

They only have four minutes left. She needs to make this quick; she goes heavy and rough, touching Adora with short little rubs up and down, her skin warming up from the friction. Adora is responsive, Catra's palm barely smothering her desperate moans, her knees and hands jerking to spread her legs wider where Catra's thighs straddle her.

It's not enough. A minute passes too quickly and Adora doesn't seem to get any closer to coming.

Catra grunts and sinks her teeth into Adora's jaw; her neck is covered too much by her stupid collar and they don't have _time_.

Shit. There's only one thing Catra can think of that might help.

So, she breaks a rule.

She presses her forehead to Adora's temple and whispers into Adora's ear:

"Be a good girl and just fucking come, okay?"

The reaction is even more sudden and eruptive than Catra expected - Adora growls, a deep rumble vibrating in Catra's palm and her hips buck, her heat tries to _suck_ Catra's fingers in.

Catra's cheeks bloom with color, and she can't stop a giggle escaping from her.

"Oh, Adora," she goes on, her hand never slowing down, "I knew you were a people pleaser, but do you really wanna be praised that bad?"

Adora writhes under her, her nose whistling as she's out of breath. She's drenched now, flowing warm around Catra's fingers.

Finally.

"You gotta work for that, y'know," Catra teases, her voice a low, raspy purr. She licks behind Adora's ear to get closer, nuzzling. Adora's chest is heaving so hard it slams into Catra's with every rugged breath she takes.

Catra's head feels light, her skin tight and too hot, and she's spiraling out of control.

"What's it gonna be, Princess?" Catra hears herself say, coming from a distance like rain pitter-patters on the skin of a drum. "Will you earn your praise? Will you keep quiet if I draw my hand back from your mouth, so I can kiss you?"

Adora nods furiously, mumbling something unintelligible into Catra's palm.

Knowing it's nearly fucking impossible for Adora to keep the promise, and that she'll most likely get them both busted, Catra still moves her hand. She doesn't really care, at this point and - a more dangerous thought - she _wants_ the whole fucking building to hear Adora scream her name.

But Adora keeps quiet. She is whimpering softly, biting down on her bottom lip so hard her pretty pink skin whitens around her teeth. She opens her eyes slowly, the blues of her irises gleaming, drilling into Catra's.

"Beautiful," Catra whispers and pulls Adora's lip with her thumb so she can keep her promise and kiss her.

Adora kisses back feverishly, her lips setting a pace similar to how Catra's hand works between Adora's legs.

Catra draws back slightly, Adora's lips still on hers.

"That's it, baby," Catra mumbles, grazing their noses together. Adora whimpers into her mouth, choking on silent sobs as her tongue strokes Catra's in a brief but desperate kiss. " _Shh_."

Catra cups Adora's cheek, her thumb stroking gently, her eyes falling shut. The words flow out of her mouth uncontrollably now, her mind barely registering what she's saying. "You're so good to me, Adora. You look so fucking pretty like this, so fucking wet for me." Catra kisses her cheek, teeth nibbling gently on her flushed skin. "My perfect little thing." Another kiss, another bite. "My good girl. Come for me, okay? Come for me."

It works again. Adora sounds like she's sobbing, but still manages to keep it low when she hides her face in the crook of Catra's neck, her mouth full of her leather jacket. Catra can feel the pressure of her teeth like this, barely biting through the layers of clothes.

Adora grinds her hips up and Catra presses back against the wave, keeping the heel of her palm for Adora to thrust up to.

"Good girl," Catra whispers again. She can feel her cheeks burning as she watches Adora's face from close when she comes. "There you go. Ride it all out, baby. You deserve it, you did so good -"

Adora looks fucking ethereal, falling apart from Catra's touch, and even better, from her words and her voice. Catra can't believe she deprived herself of this before, to drive Adora crazy with whispered little nothings, sweet or filthy alike, kissing them under Adora's flushed skin and having her writhe and whine for more.

After a couple rocks, Adora's ass plops back down onto the couch, her head rolling on the backrest. Her gasps are wet, tainted raspy with grunts.

Catra's head is pulsing, aching in the rapid beat of her heart. She slips out of Adora's briefs, staring at the pruney, shining pads of her fingers in a daze. Why the fuck is _she_ out of breath?

And what the fuck has she just done? Who said all that shit? Not Catra. It couldn't be her. Fuck, it couldn't -

She stirs to get up, limbs shaking; as soon as Adora's hands are free again, they wrap around Catra's waist.

Catra freezes. Adora does nothing else; she doesn't pull her close, doesn't hug her, doesn't stroke along her spine. She just leaves her arms there, asking silently, and Catra stays until Adora's breathing slows down.

Catra looks up at the clock again. They have a minute left.

Adora lolls her head forward, back from the sofa. Their eyes meet again, the primal need stripped away, leaving nothing but bright emptiness and a thousand stupid questions.

Catra pushes back. Adora's arms fall from her waist, letting her leave and crawl out of her lap.

"Better?" Catra croaks as she stands straight, barely controlling her voice not to break.

Adora's throat bobs.

"Yeah," she breathes, her eyes too clear for someone who's just awakening from an orgasm.

"Okay." Catra turns her head away slightly, showing Adora her sharp profile without meeting her eyes again. "Don't overthink this," she warns both of them, quiet but firm.

She doesn't wait for an answer before she leaves the room, her body trembling with a fever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry I made sure Adora can't act, even in an actress AU.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!! I'm so happy you guys seem to like this one too, and thank you so fucking much for 200+ subs. I truly hope this chapter was worth the wait - please leave me a comment with your thoughts, they truly make my days and keep me going!
> 
> Please consider checking my socials (I keep my Twitter +18 so please have your age in your bio or I will softblock you) and look out for illustrations, sneak peeks, and behind-the-scenes annoyance from me, there will be a lot :')  
> I love you all, stay safe, and cool, and come hang out with me on [Tumblr](https://quee-ra.tumblr.com) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/dandyvela) it's a fun time and I love talking to you. ♡


	4. Rule #4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _4\. Make it quick._

Adora is staring at the ceiling, her throat bobbing at a dry swallow. Her lips part again, breath still coming out in little huffs, despite her best efforts to calm down. Now Catra has already left, taking her warmth and her touch and that low, raspy voice that is like sweet venom injected into Adora's veins.

" _ Holy shit _ ," she breathes out loud, barely recognizing her own voice.

Too stunned and weak to move just yet, she feels like there's air inside her bones; as she tries to get up, clinging to the armrest of the sofa, her knees buckle and knock together.

Adora straightens, zipping herself up. She takes the path back to the stage like she'd be sleepwalking and twirls around in one place looking for her spot that is right in front of her nose.

"You're late," the PA tells her as she waves Glimmer over to touch on Adora's makeup.

Glimmer makes a face behind Juliet's back, making Adora snort on a giggle. She mops the sweat off Adora's face then, knitting her brows.

"Are you really this nervous?" She asks.

Oh that’s such a great excuse. Brilliant. Adora is grateful for any kind of cover to hide the real reason why she's so hot and bothered, so she rolls her shoulder awkwardly.

"You know it's my first time," she says. Which is still not a lie, considering what has just happened.

Adora endures Glimmer's brush tickling her face like a champion. She takes a deep breath to suppress a cough that strains her lungs from the powder twirling in the air, nostrils flaring.

"You got this," Glimmer chirps, her hand quickly squeezing Adora's between changing brushes. "You just need to focus! Turn off your brain and stop overthinking."

Adora scoffs, her voice low and flat: "So do I focus, or do I not think about it?"

"Yes." Glimmer gestures for Adora to close her eyes so she can work on her lids.

"Is everything alright?" Another voice asks from way too close.

Adora winces at the sudden noise, squeaking when Glimmer - who also got startled - poked her in the eye with the damn brush.

Adora blinks, and Glimmer shrieks: "Don't open your eyes!"

" _ Sorry _ ," Adora grumbles with an offended huff. "That's my go-to move when someone  _ stabs _ me in the  _ eye _ ."

"It's nice to see you've got your flare back, darling," Double Trouble continues. Adora can hear them grinning around the words. "Although you're still so flushed… isn't she so flushed? Dear God, I hope you're not sick!"

"I'm fine," Adora says. "It's nothing."

Adora hears the rustling of Double Trouble's clothes and the shuffling of their steps as they circle her, their voice slithering from Adora's one ear to the other.

"This job puts so much pressure on you, doesn’t it? Look at those shoulders, full of tension.. your broken posture, your shaky hands..."

"I'm  _ fine _ ."

"Maybe the two of us should talk, hm? You were so kind listening to me the other day, Adora. I should repay you somehow for helping me understand my feelings. Maybe I could do the same for you."

Adora opens her eyes just to meet Double Trouble's. She catches the questioning flash of Glimmer's eyes as she goes to work on the contour of Adora's cheekbone.

"That's really nice of you," Adora says, quiet but firm. "But I understand mine."

_ And I made her a promise _ .

Double Trouble's grin is all teeth and a sharp tongue they bite on.

"Whatever you say." They hold Adora's gaze as they ask Glimmer: "Is she ready?"

"Yeah, she's ready."

"Wonderful," Double Trouble says and snaps their fingers, swaying away, their attention already latching to other crew members on their way back to their chair.

As soon as they turn on their heel, Glimmer whispers:

"They're so fucking creepy sometimes."

"Yeah." Adora sets her jaw. "What the hell does Catra see in them?"

Glimmer whips her head up.

"Wait, what?"

_ Shit— _

"What? Nothing. I didn't say anything."

"Catra has a crush on the director?" Glimmer's voice is dripping with contempt. She scoffs, rolling her eyes. "Why am I surprised? Of course she does. Well, they deserve each other."

"No, they don't," Adora says a little too loud. Shit, she really needs to get a better grip on this whole mess, but how? How can she act like nothing happened when all she hears is Catra's loving praises kissed under her skin and all she feels is the phantoms of her soft fingers stroking between Adora's thighs - and  _ soMEHOW _ , Catra still wants to get back with her creepy ex, all the while said ex keeps asking Adora these weird, suggestive questions and they just  _ won’t leave her alone  _ so it's so hard to keep her promise —

"Are you sure you're okay?" Glimmer asks, tilting her head to the side. She tries to touch Adora's hand but Adora draws back and starts backing away pointing behind herself.

"That's my cue. See you later."

"Adora—“

Adora turns on her heel, rushing away. She quickly says her goodbye:

"Don't worry about me, okay? And please don't tell anyone what I said!"

Glimmer pinches her fingers together and seals her lips like a zipper.

Adora smiles gratefully.

Catra snarls, clutching her injured arm, hunching right in front of Adora; there are wild flames in her eyes, teeth shining bright, her hair falling over her shoulder in the softest wave - seconds away from slipping off of it - flowing down to her chest.

She looks so beautiful.

"What are you gonna do to me?" She growls with a touch of pain, fingers twitching on her arm.

Adora exhales through her nose. Good question. She was thinking about the same thing, actually.

"I haven't decided yet," she says, earnest and dark; the dangerous promise of a sweet repercussion.

Catra's eyes widen only for Adora to see.

Adora tilts the angle of the Glock in her hand and grabs Catra by the collar of her leather jacket, tugging her close.

Catra keeps her knees weak, stumbling at Adora's pull. She raises her jaw, her snarl melting into parted lips, her body into submission.

Adora forces her features to harden. She presses the muzzle of the gun to Catra's jaw; without thinking, she improvises again. She strokes the muzzle down Catra’s neck very slowly, following the path of her artery.

Catra trembles, gasping for air.

"Jus-just kill me already," she snaps. The stuttering wasn't scripted. "You won."

"I expected more from you," Adora says and pushes Catra away. Catra stumbles a couple steps and straightens, watching Adora throw the gun away, along with the broken sunglasses she snaps off her ears.

"What are you doing?"

Adora gets into position, tilting her jaw challengingly. She eases her voice, sounding playfully flirty now:

"I'm giving you one last chance to impress me."

Catra glares at her for a long time before she barks a laugh. She releases her arm; her palm is tainted red from the fake blood Adora can see under the sliced up leather jacket.

Catra mimics Adora's pose, her left foot slipping behind her.

"I’ll make you regret taking pity on me."

Adora grins.

"Good."

"Cut!"

Catra drops her arms and turns on her heel, quickly slipping into the crowd.

Adora can barely stop herself from calling after her; thankfully, the round of applause that erupts around her is distracting enough. She slips a palm on the nape of her neck, grinning sheepishly. She didn’t realize how the air had frozen in the room since they started rolling, drawing everyone’s attention.

"Aw, come on guys," she mumbles.

"You did it!" Bow whistles from the side before he wraps Adora in his arms. "That was so dope. I held my breath the entire time!"

Glimmer comes from the other side, throwing herself into the pile.

"I believed in you!"

"Good job, darling."

Adora looks at Double Trouble, who is slow clapping as well while they approach. Their eyes shine dark and unsettling - how did Adora not notice how strange they are before?

"Thank you," Adora says carefully, unfolding from her friend's arms.

"I'm delighted that you've found a way to work through your stage fright. Your talent is exceptional, I see it now. You've got to tell us your secret."

Adora feels her cheeks flush with color. She crooks an arm around Glimmer's neck, pulling her close.

"Like my best friend said, I just needed to focus."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm always right," Glimmer says proudly.

Double Trouble squints, their grin widening.

"Isn't that lovely. Well, time for me to get back to work. See you tomorrow?"

Adora is confused for a second.

"Oh, um. I'm off tomorrow, actually."

Double Trouble strokes their face with their sharp nails, jaw popping open.

"Oh right," they drawl. "Silly me. I only have my kiss scene with Kitten."

Adora tightens the grip of her arm around Glimmer's neck subconsciously, making her choke. Glimmer croaks something weak but angry that resembles Adora’s name.

"Shit,  _ s _ orry." Adora stammers, drawing her arm back and grabbing it like it's a wild animal with a mind on its own. "Sorry."

Double Trouble hums, flicking their fingers to wave at the three of them.

"Get some rest, darling. You deserve it.”

Adora casts her eyes down, vision blurring. She nearly misses Glimmer calling her name, sounding like she’s trying to yell at her from behind a closed door.

“What?” Adora winces at Glimmer’s hand clasping around her shoulder. “I’m listening.”

“Sure you are,” Glimmer purses her lips. “I said we’re going out to dinner with the others. Wanna come?”

Adora wets her lips quickly, her glance flickering around the stage.

_ Where the hell did she go? _

“I—”

“You have a day off tomorrow,” Bow reminds her. “Like DT said, you deserve to relax. You’ve been working so hard, we’ve barely had any chance to hang out since the production started.”

“Which you promised we’d do!”

“Right. You’re right, and I’m sorry, but-”

“Don’t tell me you have a curfew,” Glimmer jokes, poking Adora with her elbow. “Does Catra supervise when you go to bed?”

Adora lets out a curt, high little laugh that sounds totally normal. Bow and Glimmer share a quick glance before they turn their attention back to Adora, who finds herself laughing still.

Adora clears her throat, raising both hands defensively.

“I’ll see what I can do, okay?” She tries a weak not-excuse excuse, not quite a no but less than a maybe. “I might join later on. I’ll text you.”

“Alright, weirdo,” Glimmer shrugs, and yanks the strap of her makeup bag higher on her shoulder. “We’ll let it slide. This time. And only because Seahawk can't make it either."

“Still hope to hear from you. We’ll leave at six.”

“Noted,” Adora says and salutes. “I’ll text you anyway.”

Adora walks away. Once she steps through the first door that separates her from curious eyes, she picks her pace up. By the time she leaves the building and makes a beeline for their trailer, she’s running.

She finds it empty.

Adora took a shower, answered emails, scrolled through all her social media at least five times, did pushups on the floor, organized the few kitchen tools and knick-knacks in the cupboard by color, then size, then frequency of use, then did some more pushups.

Typical stuff to kill time.

She sat down then, which quickly turned into her throwing herself back on the bed.

She’s staring at the bottom of Catra’s top bunk now, still empty. Adora exhales with a deep sigh, raising both hands above her head on the pillow.

Where the  _ hell  _ is Catra?

Adora hasn’t seen her since their scene, and that was hours ago. Even if she had other scenes to work on, she should have come back already… right?

Catra’s real last words to her are echoing in Adora’s mind, mocking her.  _ Don’t overthink this. _ Yeah, right. Catra has known Adora for years. What’s next? Asking her to stop breathing? Would be easier, honestly. One time, Adora held her breath for so long she passed out. It was just a stupid bet (that earned 12-year-old Adora twenty bucks), but she would rather do that again anywhere, anytime, than try to stop her thoughts from whirling like a vortex, pulling her down, down, down.

Adora pushes herself up again and turns towards the narrow window of the trailer. In the orange light of the setting sun, she sees people leaving the building in flocks, every department finishing up for the day.

Catra is not with them.

_ This is ridiculous _ .

Adora grabs her jacket and her keys, stepping into her worn out, red Chucks, and slips through the door without tying them.

  
  


The stage is covered in eerie, dullish half-light, slinking shadows sticking to the tripods and screens like giant bats, the only noise breaking the silence is the squeaking of Adora’s shoes.

She regrets sneaking in immediately; without the strobes and the lack of natural light, she feels like she’s wandering around an abandoned -  _ haunted _ \- warehouse, not a fancy stage like how it looks during the day.

Adora sweeps her phone out of her pocket to get some light - at the same exact time, someone switches on a light to Adora’s left. Adora yelps quietly and drops her phone but manages to catch it mid-air, pressing it to her chest with both palms.

It’s the corridor she took to follow Catra into the meeting room. Adora can hear her own heart beating in her chest as she stays in the shadows, suddenly feeling like she’s trespassing. No one told her it would be forbidden to come back to the stage after the day is over, but it’s not something people usually do, either.

Adora hears fragments of a conversation, and she takes a couple hesitant steps closer, still moving hidden in the dark.

Someone raises her voice; it sounds raspy and furious.

It’s a voice Adora knows very well.

Adora straightens and turns onto the corridor, still pressing herself to the wall. The light comes from the cracked door, a flipped switch inside the meeting room.

Adora gets just a little closer, her back to the door. She doesn't dare peek yet - she’s just trying to hear more-

"— doing that. Reassign me,  _ right now _ ."

Another voice cuts in. Adora's blood runs cold, nails scratching against the wall.

"You think you're a wildcat, but your voice is still a kitten's."

"Don't underestimate me."

Double Trouble sighs, exasperated. Adora takes her chance to turn towards the crack, pushing the door a tiny bit more open to see both figures inside.

Double Trouble is sitting on the sofa, casually leaning on the armrest. Their legs are crossed, their foot in the air bouncing up and down impatiently.

Catra stands in front of them, showing her back to Adora; her posture is guarded, hands in shaking fists.

" _ Ya-wn _ ," Double Trouble says, and raise their brows playfully. "Are you done yet? You didn't really say anything new that I haven't heard from you already. And," Double Trouble raises from the sofa elegantly, cupping Catra's chin, "we both know this isn't what we're here for."

Catra growls low and slaps their hand away.

With the same temper, Catra yanks them close and kisses them.

Adora gasps loudly, twirling to get away, and -  _ shit _ \- knocking on the door with her phone in the process.

Catra pushes Double Trouble away and Adora ducks, scattering away with bent knees.

Adora hears Catra's panicked, breathless voice.

"What was that?! Is someone there?"

"Mm, doubt it."

"Don't fucking mess with me," Catra snaps again. "You didn't bring me here for this, you brought me here to-"

"Relax, Kitten," Double Trouble purrs, their voice getting more and more quiet. "And make sure you learn to control your emotions for tomorrow."

Adora reaches the end of the corridor and staggers to her feet, trying to leave the building as quickly and quietly as possible.

Her heart is hammering in her chest, her breath coming out in hoarse gasps, her throat so dry and tight it hurts.

She takes a couple uncertain steps towards the trailer, then halts. She turns on her heel, feeling out her car keys in her pocket, hanging from the same chain she keeps the key to the trailer.

Her truck is parked near the gate. She tears the door open and slips into the driver's seat.

She stares at her phone still in her hand. She messes up her code once, twice. She gets it right. Unlocks it. Opens her texts.

_ To: Bow _

_ Where are you guys at? I'm coming too _

  
  
  


The diner Adora's friends are at is more like a bar that serves pizza; it's all dark wood and grey bricks, neon lights and loud music.

Adora arrives when there are still a couple slices left on the huge plates, so she snatches one as she drags a chair from the empty table next to her friend's.

She plops down onto the chair, greeting everyone, mouth full of a huge bite.

It feels like rubber to chew; tasteless, dry, hard to swallow. Adora puts the slice down and rubs the crumbs off her hand.

"See, even Adora arrived before them, and she didn't even want to come," Mermista grumbles, gesturing lazily towards Adora.

"I wanted to come," Adora argues, crossing her arms on the table. "Who are you talking about?"

"Hi, everyone!" Someone chirps behind them. Adora turns her head; Perfuma approaches their table, hand in hand with a tall, buff girl Adora thinks she knows from somewhere, but it doesn't click yet.

The new girl lets Perfuma go ahead and plop down onto a seat next to Bow.

"So sorry we're late. We didn't look at the time," Perfuma says.

Mermista rolls her eyes.

" _ E-ew _ ."

Perfuma ignores her, patting the chair next to hers.

"Come on, honey! Everyone, this is Scorpia," she keeps a pause to giggle, "my  _ girlfriend _ . Scorpia, this is everyone."

Bow is the first one to rise from his chair and hold out a hand.

"Welcome to the team! It's so nice to meet you officially."

"Aww! The feeling's mutual, buddy. Come on, bring it in," Scorpia says and wraps him in a painful-looking hug.

Scorpia hugs everyone around the table - Adora snorting on a laugh at the look on Mermista's face - then lastly, reaches Adora.

Scorpia's expression changes immediately; her big grin drops, eyebrows furrowing.

Adora tries, confused:

"Hi, I'm Adora?"

"I know," Scorpia says. She reaches out a hand.

"No hug? Okay. Uh. Hello." Adora takes the hand, shaking it a couple times. "Do we, uh- sorry, do we know each other?"

"I heard a couple things about you."

" _ Really? _ " Mermista asks, eyes flaring up at the smell of drama. "From who?"

Adora shoots her a glare. Mermista shrugs.

"My best friend," Scorpia says, sitting back next to Perfuma. " _ Catra _ ."

Adora seems to be the only one surprised at that. Somewhere at the back of her mind, a memory starts to form from the haze - Perfuma mentioning someone who's fond of Catra at breakfast. Didn't Mermista call them Perfuma's girlfriend?

Ugh, great. Said girlfriend is here to spend time with them and be part of their friend group while she absolutely despises Adora.

Adora fidgets uncomfortably, but hasn't given up yet; she tries a smile she hopes is charming enough, and mumbles:

"Okay, well, hah. Yeah, she's- She's not so fond of me, but don't judge a book by someone else's description of the cover, right?"

Scorpia actually laughs, surprising herself the most. She clears her throat and hardens her expression again, turning her attention back to the others.

Okay. That's a start.

Adora reaches for the slice of pizza again, taking another bite to do something with herself.

The conversation starts up again. Adora tries her best to focus on everyone talking, forcing the next bite down her throat.

She still hasn't gotten her appetite back.

An hour later, Adora bursts into the bathroom in the back of the bar, stumbling into a stall and slamming the door closed.

She takes a deep, shuddering breath, and starts sobbing uncontrollably.

She reaches for toilet paper blindly, tearing off a handful. She feels pathetic hearing her own whimpers and how she is choking on sobs so hard her lungs start to burn.

Adora muffles the noise with the back of her hand pressed to her open mouth, rubbing her face dry with the toilet paper. It feels disgusting and rough; Adora's skin warms up from the rubbing, painting it even redder.

It takes her a couple minutes to calm down, the urge to throw up those hoarse cries coming in waves.

Adora straightens and sniffles. She tears off another handful of paper and blows her nose, throws it into the toilet and flushes it.

She inhales. Exhales. Unlocks the stall and slips out, only to bump into someone she absolutely  _ does not _ want to perceive her like that.

"Hi," Scorpia says carefully, drawling on her words like she would talk to a stray dog without a leash. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Adora says swiftly. "Yeah, I'm totally fine. Why wouldn't I be fine? Everything is fine."

"It kinda sounded like you were… crying in there?"

Adora snorts and steps to the sink to wash her face as an excuse to not look at Scorpia.

"Me? Crying? Pssh, no. Nah, that must've been someone else."

"Ookay, I'll just-" Adora sees Scorpia point towards a stall, shuffling away. She halts after all, her sigh short and annoyed. "Dammit, I can't. You're clearly going through something and I may not like you, but this isn't right."

Adora opens her mouth to politely decline, but it turns into a growl of protest when Scorpia picks her up and plops her down onto the counter between two sinks so they are eye to eye.

"Talk to me, buddy."

"I- look, I appreciate you trying to help but…" Adora growls again, irritated by herself this time. She dries her face with the edge of her shirt and confesses as quickly as possible: "I have no idea what's wrong. I just... I had to let it out. I don’t know why."

Scorpia hums, cocking a brow kindly.

"Looks like your heart already knows something your mind refuses to believe."

Despite feeling like shit, Adora grins.

"You already sound like Perfuma."

"Yeah, that was a direct quote from her."

Adora sniffs. She curls her fingers around the edge of the counter, hanging her head. Something breaks in her from Scorpia's surprisingly determined efforts to help, so she finds herself talking before she could even think about what she's saying:

"It's just that— I think it's just that I have this girl who I've been— uh. We've been. We've been baking cakes. Yeah, we've been baking cakes for a couple years now, and that's kind of, so that's all we do, but lately she's- she's changed the, the, the toppings. She changed the topping and turns out the cakes are even more delicious that way but she seems to think it wasn't a good idea and she's been ignoring me, and also, she has this other person she used to bake cakes with, and she wants to bake cakes with them again and they want to bake cakes with her again and they've already started like… like. Mixing the bowl, and I thought I was fine with that since it's just baking cakes and nothing else, but she's so… so damn good. At baking. And maybe- maybe I'm not actually okay with that. Yeah. Yeah, I'm not. I don't— I don't want her to bake cakes with anyone else but me." Adora takes a breath for the first time since she started talking, looking up at Scorpia. "You know?"

If Scorpia wasn't absolutely sure that Adora was crazy before, by the look on her face, she has no doubt now.

Adora raises her hands, hopping off from the counter.

"You know what? I already feel better from you just listening to me. Thank you so much. Go pee."

And with that, Adora turns her back to Scorpia, skittering away.

She does feel lighter in her steps now; maybe it's the relief of crying and letting it all out, or maybe she wasn't lying - she does see things more clearly now.

She wants Catra to keep her whatever-they-are with benefits status only for Adora.

And with that, the perfect plan already starts to form in Adora's mind.

Now, she just needs to get Catra alone in their trailer and show her what she would be missing.

  
  


Catra hasn't been back for two nights.

Adora is starting to actually lose her goddamn mind. Catra is still there during the day; she's working on her scenes (Adora made sure she was not even close to the stage where her and Double Trouble had their kiss scene), going to the cafeteria, chatting with Scorpia at MUAH, but she spends the nights somewhere else.

Adora doesn't want to know where.

Now it's the fourth day since the ominous Last Time, and Adora feels absolutely miserable. Sure, they've had months between sleeping together before, but that was because they couldn't even meet. Since this production has started and they've been stuck together, it felt so natural that they've been having sex more. It felt right. Needed.

Adora unlocks the trailer door with a sigh, stepping inside fully expecting to find it empty tonight, too.

She's wrong.

Catra is laying on her belly, propped up on her elbows on the top bunk with her back towards Adora. Adora can't see what she's doing but from the quiet rustling of paper, she must be reading something.

Adora closes the door a bit too loudly, so her presence is well known. Catra doesn't even flinch.

Adora feels her hands curl into fists.

Okay, this ends now.

Adora unzips her jacket and drags it off her arms, throwing it on her bed. She kicks her sneakers off as well, hands on the ladder - and starts to climb up to the top bunk.

Catra still doesn't move or look at her. She doesn't react in any way when Adora climbs above her, reaching for the open book in front of her. Adora closes the cover and pulls it away, tossing it down onto her own bed under them.

The book hits the blanket with a heavy thud.

Catra doesn't move.

Adora touches Catra's curls carefully, smoothing them behind her ear to see her face better.

"You've been avoiding me," Adora says, quiet but firm.

Catra scoffs and starts to stir, finally; she rolls onto her side, looking Adora in the eye with the usual challenging flames.

"Because we have nothing to say to each other. And I don't want to fuck you."

"Then why are you holding me?"

Catra snaps her hand back from Adora's waist like she touched fire.

"You broke a rule," Adora goes on.

"I wouldn’t had to do it if you didn't fuck up so many takes. Someone had to fix the mess you made.”

Adora narrows her eyes. She lays a little heavier on top of Catra, making her turn onto her back fully. Adora's fingers wander to Catra's jaw, stroking along the sharp line before cupping it.

"I still think you deserve to be punished for it." Catra's eyes darken. "I think…" Adora brings Catra's face closer, until she could count her freckles, "that it's only fair that I've got to break a rule now, too."

"Do you," Catra grumbles, but her voice barely has an edge. She fidgets a bit to feel more comfortable, her hands coming back to settle on Adora's waist and on her navel, fingers spread. "Let's say you have a point. Which one would you break?"

Adora doesn't have to think about it.

" _ Make it quick _ ."

Catra exhales with an annoyed grunt, fingers twitching on Adora's shirt.

"Is that also my punishment?"

Adora grins, cocking her head.

"If that's how you want to take it."

Adora can see Catra swallow, her lashes fluttering. She goes a little rigid under Adora, but she tries to hide and ease it immediately with a roll of her shoulders. Adora props herself on her hands, putting distance between them.

“Talk to me.”

Catra keeps quiet for a while, glaring up at Adora. Her gaze flickers around on Adora’s face like she is looking for something.

If she found it or not, Adora cannot decide.

Still without words, Catra grabs a fistful of Adora's shirt and reels her back in, guiding her on top of her. Catra's hands come up to wrap around Adora's chest as she slips a thigh between Adora's legs pretentiously.

"Catra."

"Punish me," she says quietly. Her voice breaks at the end, a strange shine in her eyes is like a dagger twisting into Adora's chest.

Adora's throat tightens. She presses their foreheads together, the tips of their noses grazing.

"I’m going to savor you,” she whispers, peeking up from Catra’s lips to her eyes. “I can always punish you later. But right now-" Adora presses her body tight to Catra's, a hand in her hair and the other on her warm cheek, thumb pulling down Catra's bottom lip. "- I'm going to take care of you, spoil you rotten, and I'm only going to stop when your legs are shaking."

Catra's lips pop open. Adora kisses her, mouth closed, moving her lips gently. She takes Catra's upper lip between hers, adding just a touch of pressure, sweet and promising.

Catra makes a broken noise at the back of her throat, nose huffing. She claws into Adora's shoulders, who promptly ignores the wordless order and doesn't deepen the kiss just yet.

She hums a negative reply into Catra's lips, only parting to tilt her head to the other side. Her hand slides from Catra's cheek to her neck, stroking with just the tips of her fingers.

Slow kissing Catra in her own bed is not something Adora would ever imagine happening. She kinda feels like this isn't real, that Catra laughed at her face at the suggestion of breaking another rule and left for the night again, and this whole scene is just Adora's masturbation fantasy.

But Catra trembles under her now, which is very real, her hips bucking.

Adora's hand comes to grab Catra's hip, pushing her back into the bed and grounding Adora herself. She decides to spare Catra, though - she parts her lips, inviting, and lets Catra deepen their kiss, whimpering into her mouth.

Adora grins, trying her best to keep their kiss lingering and herself silent. It's never been harder to keep her mouth shut while being with Catra. Her hand slips under Catra's long-sleeve shirt, crumpling it up to her neck, exposing her heaving stomach and simple black bra.

Adora breaks the kiss, pressing her lips to Catra's cheek now, peppering the path to the hollow of her neck with little pecks. Catra's breath already hitches at every single one, her back curving under Adora.

Adora tightens the grip of her hand in Catra's hair, tilting her chin up. Her other hand draws gentle strokes all over Catra's chest and arms, and her kisses turn open-mouthed, then into bites, going down between Catra's breasts, along her navel, to the waist of her jeans—

"Cherry," Catra gasps, voice high with panic.

Adora jerks up, sitting up on her heels and releasing Catra.

Catra is panting, the path on her skin Adora's lips followed is flushed.

"You can't touch me there with your mouth," she breathes hoarsely, referring to another rule.

"I know," Adora reassures her, softening her voice. "I know, I wasn't going to."

Catra nods sharply. Her glance is still shaky, a little hazy, and she doesn't say their code for Adora to continue yet.

Adora sucks her lips in. Maybe the sudden change of their usual power play was too much of a risk to take.

"Hey," Adora whispers. Catra's eyes snap to her face. "Do you want to stop?"

"No," is all Catra says. Her breathing has eased at least, but she still looks conflicted; whatever wall she's trying to break through is still standing between her and allowing Adora to touch her again.

Adora's chest tightens painfully. She can't let Catra feel uncomfortable with anything. This was not supposed to go like this. She needs to fix this.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," Catra hisses through gritted teeth, squeezing her eyes shut. "I'm just-  _ fuck _ ."

"I would never do anything to you that you're not okay with," Adora says. "Tell me what you need, Catra. We can talk about everything I've been planning to do to you before we start again. Or..." Adora knows she's about to take another risk, desperately trying to find the right way to offer this. "We could talk, too. Like... you were talking to me before."

Catra makes a face, combing through her hair.

"Another rule to break?"

"Uhh,  _ you _ broke it first," Adora jokes, pointing a finger gun at her. Catra mimics her grin, and something shifts in the air.

"You're so weird."

"Yeah." Adora stays put while Catra sits up as well, leaning on her hands behind her back.

Catra's eyes shine mischievously now, her grin melting into a smirk. She tilts her head to the side, her wild tufts curl in front of her face, eyes falling half-lidden before she looks up at Adora.

"What were you planning to do to me, Adora?"

Adora swallows thickly. The way Catra's eyes hold her captive now makes her cheeks warm up, and leaves her tongue tied.

"I'm, uh— I was. I was going to— um. So." She clears her throat.

"Mm-hm," Catra hums. She wraps her arms around Adora's neck, pulling her close, moaning into her mouth: "That's so hot. I'm so turned on."

"Shut up," Adora scoffs, laying back down with Catra, her hand on the small of Catra's back. Their clothes are rustling, the bed creaking under their weight. "I changed my mind. You don't get to talk."

"Too late."

"You're goddamn annoying, you know that?"

"Part of my irresistible charm," Catra sighs. Her hair flows all over the pillow like spilled ink, her hands on Adora's shoulders. "Come on. Humor me."

Adora wets her lips. Things have gotten even more surreal now; the way they're so close just for the sake of each other's warmth, how they get to joke and talk in a way they haven't before, Catra pulling her in instead of pushing away, agreeing to Adora's terms and playing  _ her _ game.

Can Adora even do this?

"I was going to mark you," Adora says, her voice barely a whisper. "Kissing all over your body, avoiding all sensitive spots until every little touch feels too much. Drive you mad, make you whimper and writhe under me. I wanted to see you bite your lips to swallow my name you're not not allowed to say." She has Catra's full attention now, those pretty eyes with blown-out pupils latching onto Adora's. They make her find her voice, going on louder and rougher. "I was going to undress you with my teeth, grind on you slowly, kiss you breathless, make you forget everyone else—" Adora clips her words, unwelcomed images flooding her mind. She tried so hard not to think about  _ that _ , but it might be too late now; she said too much, she's messed up again. Catra will never allow her to be this possessive, this desperate, she would never let Adora have her like that, this isn't what they're supposed to be—

"Okay," Catra says, hands still on Adora's shoulders, squeezing now.

_ Wait— _

"Okay?"

"Yeah, dumbass," Catra giggles, and there's that adorable little tingle Adora has heard before but never earned, dripping down her throat like honey. "Don't get too cocky. I'll tell you if I want it harder. But…" Catra drops her hands next to Adora’s ears and raises her jaw. "We can start things your way."

Adora's head feels so light, her heart beating so fast she barely hears Catra's words from the drumming noise echoing in her ears.

Adora grabs Catra's crumpled turtleneck with both hands, pulling it off her slowly, then she leans down for Catra's lips again. Catra goes numb under Adora's weight, giving in; she arches up, just to feel closer rather than seeking friction she knows Adora will not let her have just yet.

Catra's cute little noises of encouragement that she whimpers and gasps into Adora's kisses blur Adora's vision, making her feel giddy, her whole body burning so hot. She needs to grip the sheets for balance, rolling her hips down mindlessly.

They're still both fully clothed from the waist down, which burns Adora's skin even more - too rough, too tight, too itchy, useless scraps of fabric keeping them apart.

Adora deepens their kiss with another taunting wave of her hips and a squeeze of Catra's ass, holding her up.

Catra opens her legs wider. She crosses her ankles behind Adora's back, slips a hand on the nape of Adora's neck, her lips parting with a needy mewl and-

_ Adora's name _ spilling from them like a plea.

Adora freezes, her eyes widen. She draws back, breath coming out in a shaky gasp. She meets Catra’s eyes - shocked and round, just like hers - and whispers:

“Say it again.”

“Not a fucking chance,” Catra breathes weakly.

“Fine.” Adora kisses her again, all tongue and teeth now, pulling back way too soon to tug on a fistful of Catra's hair. "I'll make you."

Catra cries out at Adora's teeth sinking into her neck. She claws at Adora's shoulders, nails coming up to her neck; Adora grunts around the bite, shoving Catra's hands back down to the bed.

She raises her chest, fingers curling tight around Catra's wrists. She shakes her ponytail behind her shoulder, scowling at Catra.

"I know what you're doing." Catra raises her brows questioningly, pretty face blank and innocent. "I know you're trying to rough me up so I'll forget about taking you slowly. Nice plan, but it won’t work.”

Adora's features shift into a playful grin. She sits up with Catra’s legs still wrapped around her waist so she’s practically sitting in Adora’s lap. Catra narrows her eyes at her, and yet, she melts into Adora’s touch when she places her fingers around the nape of Catra’s neck.

Adora hooks her fingers into the high waist of Catra’s jeans, yanking her close. “I think I figured out the perfect punishment for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello I am Alive :'DDDD
> 
> Thank you so so much for your support on this fic, and for being patient with me! I do hope this chapter left you with a "ok, worth the wait" taste in your mouth, I promise I'll bring you Chapter 5 not-this-late. I am afraid to make any clearer promises.
> 
> Please consider saying hello to me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/dandyvela) (I keep it +18 so please have your age in your bio or I will block you), send me your thoughts about Break A Leg here in the comments or anonymously on [CuriousCat](https://curiouscat.qa/DandyVela) (where you can also leave me prompts and suggestions for both art and drabbles!)  
> I love you all, stay safe, and see you next time!

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to another modern AU. :'D If you're new around here, welcome, if you're not new around here, hi friend! Thank you all for joining me on this, I truly hope you've liked the first chapter of breaking we're-only-having-sex rules, horrible puns, ridiculous banter, insane denial, and much more.  
> Please leave me a comment if you do, I love hearing from you and it makes my day and inspires me a bunch.
> 
> I love you all, stay safe, and cool, and come hang out with me on [Tumblr](https://quee-ra.tumblr.com) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/dandyvela) it's a fun time and I love talking to you. ♡


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